


lovers, keep on the road you’re on

by possumdnp



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: 2019, Discussions Of The Past & Future, Established Relationship, Fluff, Introspection, Japan, M/M, Smut, Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-22
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-14 12:33:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 29,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28920639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/possumdnp/pseuds/possumdnp
Summary: Japan is one of their favourite places in the world. And this holiday might just be the best two weeks Phil's ever had.(A fic about their 2019 Japan trip.)
Relationships: Dan Howell/Phil Lester
Comments: 48
Kudos: 70





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Timeframes and some events are roughly based off of their social media posts (be sure to check out the links I've included in the endnotes!), but anything else is my own imagination! This fic contains a lot of discussion of their past memories and future plans, and I’d like to make it clear that this is a work of fiction! I don’t claim to know anything about their lives or this Japan trip besides what they've chosen to share with us. :)
> 
> As well, I did quite a bit of research about Japan for this fic, but I have sadly never visited. Kindly forgive me if anything is inaccurate!
> 
> Title is from the song “Lovers In Japan” by Coldplay.
> 
> This fic is complete and will update every three days!

It’s unfair how amazing Japan is.

They’ve got a cool airport and taxi cabs with doilies on the seats. Even their hotel bathroom has a futuristic toilet with a warming seat, and a fancy-looking shower with a rainforest showerhead that Phil’s dying to try out. It’s just as incredible as he remembered it from their first visit here.

“Phil,” Dan’s voice comes from the other room. “I’ve been in Japan for only an hour, and I’m already writing a haiku to accompany an Instagram photo. How pretentious am I?”

“The most pretentious person I know,” Phil calls back as he closes up his contact case. He slips his glasses on and heads out of the bathroom to find Dan standing by the window. “So what’s the haiku about?”

 _“This,”_ Dan says, opening their hotel curtain a little wider. Phil stares out at Tokyo at night. There’s millions of twinkling white lights, interspersed with blinking red lights. He knows Japan’s a pretty small country, all things considered, but if you told him that Tokyo went on forever, he’d believe it from this view.

“It’s incredible,” Phil says. He puts an arm around Dan’s waist. “I’m already so glad we came.”

Dan leans his head against Phil’s shoulder. “Thanks for suggesting it. We really needed this break, I think.”

Phil kisses his hair. “You’ve worked really hard this year. Done a lot. You really deserve it.”

Dan huffs out an amused breath through his nose. “You’ve worked just as hard as me. We _both_ deserve this trip.”

“Good thing we’re here together then, hmmm?”

They stand there for a little while longer, enjoying the dancing lights of the city at night, before Phil lets out a big yawn.

“Bed,” Dan says, patting his shoulder. “We’re both exhausted, and I want to explore so many places tomorrow.”

Phil smiles sleepily. “Bedtime.”

—

When Phil’s eyes open the next morning, their hotel room is already filled with light. It’s the full golden sunlight of mid-morning, not the faint rays of early dawn. He can hear distant traffic sounds from the road outside. He blinks, then squints over at the bedside clock.

It’s a whole _two hours_ past when they’d planned to get up. Phil stuffs his glasses on his face and glances over at Dan, who’s still sound asleep.

“Dan.” He nudges him, making him grumble in protest. “Wake up. It’s almost eleven.”

Dan’s eyes open, and he blinks a few times before his gaze focuses on Phil’s face. “Fucking hell. Didn’t we go to bed at ten last night? We slept for over half a day.”

“Yeah, we did.” He sits up. “I hate to pull us out of bed on our first day on holiday, but we’ve got those tickets for that museum today. We actually need to get up.”

Dan groans and rubs at his face. “Why the hell did we decide it was a good idea to buy timed tickets for our first day here?”

“Because we’re overambitious idiots with a desire to experience art and culture.”

Dan begrudgingly sits up. “Ugh. You go shower first. I’ll order us some coffee and room-service food.”

If there’s anything that could convince Phil of getting up right now, it’s the prospect of coffee and a shower. _Especially_ the shower. The flight from England to Japan isn’t exactly short, and he feels like he smells like a sweaty airport right now.

The rainforest showerhead is just as good as Phil imagined it would be. It cascades down on him, washing away the anxiety of running around unfamiliar airports, the sweat of squashing his lanky body into too-small airplane seats for way too many hours, the layover in Abu Dhabi where he’d dripped airport coffee down his shirt.

The water leaves him refreshed, and all he can think now is that he’s on holiday in one of his favourite places in the world. _Japan._

He had been too tired to notice it last night, but the shower actually faces out towards a floor-to-ceiling window, and he’s able to look out over the city as he soaps up. Tokyo is just as impressive in the daytime as it was last night. He watches as traffic and people bustle underneath him, everyone going about their days. It’s autumn, and he can see little orange trees dotting the pavement and parks. Despite his jetlagged bleariness, all the activity below him makes him incredibly excited to go exploring today.

He’s just rinsing the soap off his arms when Dan knocks on the bathroom door. “Food’s here.”

“Come look at this shower,” Phil calls. “I reckon you can see all of Tokyo from here.”

Dan steps into the bathroom to see for himself. “Oh my god, look at this window. I want to rub myself against it.”

Phil smirks. “You and your thing for windows. It’s a good thing we’re putting lots of windows in our house, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, but this window is like, _sensual._ Look how big it is. Maybe we should rethink our bathroom design.”

Phil laughs. “I think it’s a bit too late for that. But it’s _not_ too late for me to decide that I want a rainforest showerhead like this in our master bath. This thing is incredible.”

“Get out so I can try it, then,” Dan says, already starting to strip off. “There’s a whole pot of coffee out there. Save some for me.”

Phil grabs his towel and changes places with Dan, watching as he looks out the window in awe. Smiling to himself, Phil dries off, dresses for the day, and sprays his hair with sea salt spray to get his quiff looking perfect.

As well as the coffee, Dan’s ordered a bunch of food that looks like it will be easy for them to take on the go. If there’s one thing he’s grown to appreciate over the years, it’s how practical a travel companion Dan is.

He sits down at their little table, pours himself a cup of coffee, and takes a bite of one of the sandwiches. He’s not quite sure what it is; some sort of fish, he thinks. Coffee and fish is not a combination he would ever choose willingly, but he’s hungry enough to demolish half a sandwich and a cup of coffee by the time Dan’s out of the shower.

“I packed our backpack whilst waiting for the food to arrive,” Dan says, showing him. “The museum tickets are safely in this folder here. So once we pack up this food, I think we’re all set to go.”

“Wow, you’re on top of things today,” Phil says as he wraps up the remaining food and tucks it into their backpack for safekeeping. “Let’s head out, then.”

—

As they disembark from their train at Aomi Station, Phil almost feels like he’s trembling with excitement. He can see the main archway of Palette Town from here, and it officially feels like they’re on holiday now.

“What if this we’re actually entering into the Pokémon universe right now, and this is actually Pallet Town?” Phil says as they make their way from the station to the front gates of the entertainment district.

Dan whistles a few bars of the Pallet Town theme. “You know they’re spelled differently and this place has no relation to Pokémon, right?”

“Yeah. But we can pretend.”

“Sure, bud.” Dan smiles over at him as they head towards the stairs. “I think you’re just excited for Pokémon Shield to come out in a few days.”

“Obviously. As if you didn’t also pre-order it the day it was announced.” Phil grins. “But I think I’m even more excited for this.” As they walk through the main gate and up the stairs, a huge ferris wheel comes into view. He points at it excitedly. “That ferris wheel is enormous. And it’s _rainbow.”_

“I read in our guidebook that it used to be the biggest one in the world. It’s a hundred metres tall, and it takes sixteen minutes to go around in it.”

“We _have_ to go on it,” Phil declares.

Dan bumps Phil’s shoulder with his own. “We’ve got timed tickets to attend to that we’re almost late for. But how about tonight? I think it gets lit up with a billion little lights at night, so it’ll look even cooler than it does now.”

“Tonight. It’s a date.”

The teamLab Digital Art Museum is actually pretty close to the ferris wheel. They both love a good art museum, and this one is supposed to be a completely immersive experience. Their friends, Duncan and Mimei, recommended that they visit.

Phil can see why they did. He’s never been anywhere like it, honestly. Most art museums he’s been to are just framed paintings hanging on the walls, or statues that you aren’t allowed to touch. They make for a fun afternoon out, and they make him feel more intellectual than he actually is, but Phil is a naturally tactile person. He’s the sort who’s always tempted to run his fingers along surfaces to see what they feel like.

Here, he can do that, and it’s like a dream come true. This museum is a full-body experience, where they’re allowed to interact with pretty much every exhibit in some way. He reckons it’s like being thrown into an artist’s canvas full of crazy, colourful ideas.

Even better, at least in his own opinion, there’s no signposts or maps, no single direction they’re supposed to follow. Phil gets lost with even the best of maps, so being encouraged to walk around aimlessly and get lost among the art suits him just fine.

In one room, lights cascade around every surface, making it look like they’re in a forest awash with blooming flowers. There’s even a river of light running down a ramp and across the floor.

In another room, every wall, including the ceiling and floor, is covered in mirrors. They reflect all of the hanging lanterns a million times over, making Phil feel like he’s floating in an endless sea of light.

They even get to wade through weird, artistic liquid in another room, which makes for some amazing photos — and some damp jeans.

“I’ve never seen something like this before,” Phil says quietly. “It’s incredible.”

Dan doesn’t reply, too preoccupied with the artsy fog swirling around his knees. His face and dark clothes are awash with hundreds of different colours as he stares around the misty room, a look of awe on his face. Phil smiles and can’t help but pull out his phone to take some candid photos. He’s taken countless pictures of Dan over the years, but when there’s such a pretty subject in front of him, he really can’t help himself.

Dan glances back at him and smiles. “Taking my picture, mate?”

“The lights make you look extra nice. All colourful, like you’re a part of the art.”

Dan grins widely. “Look at you, getting all sappy.”

Phil shrugs, not denying it. “Yeah, I am.” He really does feel sappy today. He thinks going on holiday brings that side of him out a bit more, the part that wants to confess how much he loves Dan.

Feeling satisfied with the pictures he’s taken, he tucks his phone back into his pocket. “I think this museum is the best physical representation of what it feels like inside my brain. You know, just wandering around, getting very lost, playing around with ideas until something cool happens. It makes me happy to be a creative person, you know?”

“Yeah,” Dan says. “I think I know exactly what you mean.”

—

Phil’s surprised when they come outside to find that they’ve spent nearly four hours in the digital art museum. It’s now the middle of the afternoon, so they get something to eat before strolling around the entertainment district, taking in the gardens and the entrances to the other attractions.

There’s a fancy race car in front of the car museum that Dan insists on peering into for a long while. (Phil doesn’t understand Dan’s obsession with car racing, but he loves hearing Dan talk so passionately about it. He nods along as Dan waxes poetic about this car’s horsepower and features.)

They run across a giant robot statue that Phil pretends to fight, which makes Dan laugh like a hyena.

And then, Dan spots the frickin’ Statue of Liberty standing tall out in the bay. He points it out to Phil, and they head over to the railing to take in the view.

“Maybe we entered a weird time-space loop inside the museum and accidentally exited into New York City,” Phil says. But beyond the statue, they can see the Tokyo Tower and an impressive suspension bridge, confirming that they’re definitely still in Japan.

“Do you even remember seeing the actual Statue of Liberty?” Dan asks. “Before we did TATINOF in New York? You were running a fever when we were touring around and I was scared you were gonna pass out at one point.”

“This is probably bad to admit, but I don’t really remember seeing the real Statue,” Phil says, leaning on the railing. “I mean, I don’t even really remember that show, or most of that visit to New York. Can you get stoned on American cold medicine? ‘Cause I think I was.”

“Jesus fuck,” Dan says. “Thinking back, we really shouldn’t have let you perform.”

Phil shrugs. “Eh. We were younger and stupider back then, and I didn’t want to disappoint anyone. And nothing bad happened, so I think it all worked out for the best, didn’t it?”

Dan raises an eyebrow but doesn’t retort.

They stare out over Tokyo Bay, continuing to reminisce on those stressful days of tour. The sun is starting to set by this point, and lights are starting to turn on across the city. The bridge lights up in rainbow colours, as does the ferris wheel behind them.

“Want to go on the ferris wheel now?” Phil asks during a lull in their conversation. “I’ll even buy you drinks after.”

“Cheeky fucker, trying to seduce me,” Dan says.

“Hey, it worked the first time. You’re still hanging around, aren’t you?”

Ferris wheels will always hold nostalgia for them. Even though the one in Manchester is long gone, Phil always gets a thrill in his stomach whenever he and Dan are closed into a big wheel pod.

This particular ferris wheel is the biggest they’ve ever been on, and it’s so cool to be hundreds of feet up in the air, looking down over the whole of Tokyo Bay.

“Hey,” Dan says, nudging at Phil’s feet as their pod rises into the air. “I had a really fun day today.”

“I did too.” He stands up and sits next to Dan. He doesn’t even know if they’re supposed to stay on opposite sides to keep the weight distribution in their pod even, but fuck it, he’s gonna risk it. He wants to sit next to his partner right now, not an inch of space in between them.

Dan leans over and kisses him lingeringly, his tongue tracing over Phil’s bottom lip, making him shiver. “I love you a lot.”

“I love you a lot too.” Phil presses his forehead against Dan’s, then leans in for another slow kiss. They reluctantly pull back after a minute and sit back against their seats so they can admire the view from the very top of the wheel.

The boats in Tokyo Bay are pinpoints, barely visible in the dusk light. The suspension bridge is merely a small strip of rainbow lights, reflected into the water below. And the city itself seems small from where they are, a distant blur of millions of lights. It’s a beautiful sight.

He slips his hand into Dan’s, giving him an affectionate squeeze. They never hold hands in public, but it’s always been a thing on ferris wheels for them. Holding Dan’s hand will always feel incredibly intimate to him, in a way he’s never tried to describe to other people.

They sit there quietly for the rest of their trip around the big wheel, their hands clasped loosely, and Phil thinks how he never wants to forget this night.

—

They don’t have anywhere to be the next day, but Phil still feels guilty when they wake up at eleven for the second day in a row. It feels like they’ve wasted half their day, even though they’re both jetlagged to all hell and could really use the sleep.

Phil blinks up at the ceiling, slowly waking up. Honestly, despite the mild guilt, it’s so nice to sleep for half a day straight in a plush hotel bed. Back home, they work themselves to the bone so often. They’ve been trying to prioritize sleep more, but it’s hard to break old habits.

“You awake?” Dan whispers.

“Yeah. Barely.” He blinks again, trying to pull his brain out of dreamland.

“I’ve been up for like an hour already. I wanted to wake you up, but you looked so peaceful.” Dan rolls over and smushes his face into Phil’s shoulder. “We should stop being lazy and get up.”

“Five more minutes?” Phil says. “I’m still tired.”

Dan pokes at him. “Nope. Up. It’s almost noon, and we’ve got a city to explore.”

Once they finally get out of their hotel room, they wander around the streets near their hotel room, grab a bite to eat at a cute little takoyaki place, and manage to figure out the bus lines with little incident (although when they’re about to get off at their stop, Dan stands up and smashes his head against the roof of the bus, causing half a dozen locals to look over at him in concern).

Japan in the spring was beautiful last time they were here, but autumn has its own unique charm. The trees are still in full colour, the parks they pass filled with vibrant foliage. While the trees in London tend to turn gold this time of year, here, the trees have turned a wide spectrum of reds, oranges, and golds.

The weather is also a lot cooler than the last time they visited, though he feels more than comfortable today with his light jean jacket. It feels fantastic to be outside, stretching their legs and breathing in fresh air. Their careers (and Dan’s slight agoraphobia) mean that they don’t go outside as much as they should, but not sitting in front of a screen all day is a welcome change.

Perhaps the thing Phil likes the most about Japan is that they don’t have to worry about loads of people recognizing them and stopping them on the street. Sure, some people do stare a bit longer at them here, but that’s because they’re two giant guys who are clearly tourists. Phil loves his subscribers to death, but he also likes being able to walk around like he’s a completely normal person without a fanbase of a few million.

They’ve scheduled out most of their days on this trip, but today is a rare free day, where their only plans are to wander around the city without an agenda.

“We’ll go wherever the wind takes us,” Phil says as they walk down a random street.

“Is that another weird Northern phrase?” Dan says.

“I dunno. It’s just something people say, I think. At least my mum always said it when I was growing up. Don’t diss Kath’s weird phrases.”

Dan smiles. “I would never diss Kath.”

“She’s been texting me quite a bit since we’ve been here, asking how we like it and what we’re up to. I think she’s trying to live vicariously through us.”

“I don’t blame her,” Dan says. “I mean, look at it.” He gestures around them at the colourful, busy array of city life.

“She’d like it here, I reckon,” Phil says. “Maybe we should go on holiday with my family to somewhere other than Florida one year. That could be a lot of fun.”

Dan smiles. “I like how we’re two days into this holiday and you’re already planning future trips.”

Phil shrugs. “It’s fun being away from home. I want to do it again. But I also miss my parents. So a family holiday just makes sense.”

“I miss your family too. But we’re seeing them in a month for Christmas.”

Phil’s eyes light up. “We should totally get my parents Christmas presents from Japan! They’d love that.”

Dan smiles. “I’m sure we’ll find something along the way.”

“And Martyn and Corn too. We’ve got to get them something nice for watching our fish and our email accounts while we’re gone.”

“Oh my god, yes. We need to get them something _really nice_ to thank them for that,” Dan says. “I mean, I dunno about you, but I’m still terrified that IRL will implode while we’re out having fun, or that my publisher will email me back, and will be really upset when I don’t respond right away.”

“It’s hard,” Phil agrees. He himself had a lot of anxiety on the plane ride over, worrying that something terrible was happening with IRL while he was unreachable. “But that’s why Martyn’s checking our emails for us. So he can text us if anything serious does come up. Nothing’s gonna implode in our absence.”

“I know that. I just… I think it’s like a weird flaw of mine. It’s so hard letting work shit fall out of my control for a little while, even when I’m doing something fun instead.”

Phil nods. It’s a flaw of his too. “But it’s also kinda great to know that we’re just allowed to live a slower-paced life when we’re on holiday. It’s a huge relief, you know?”

“It is,” Dan says, and they walk in silence for a few moments. “When you step away from it all, does it make you realize how difficult it is to quiet your mind and just enjoy the present moment?”

“I mean, that sounds _exactly_ like something my therapist would say I need to work on,” Phil says. “So, yes.”

Dan laughs. “Yeah? Mine too. Guess we’ve got a lot of learning to do together, then.”

Phil glances to his left and spots a truly glorious sight: a sweet shop. “Hey. You know what’d be an excellent way to live in the present moment? Going into this shop and buying loads of sugar.”

Dan laughs and steps forward to pull open the door, ushering Phil inside. “Of course you’d claim that visiting a sweet shop is vital to your mental health.”

To Phil’s utter delight, the shop smells of chocolate and sugar and is selling a million different Japanese sweets: gummies in dozens of fruit flavours, Popin’ Cookin’ kits, chocolate bars, and seemingly hundreds of varieties of Kit-Kats.

Phil naturally wants to buy one of everything, but they manage to narrow it down to just a few things that look interesting, including five different types of Kit-Kats.

“Want to go back to that park and try some of this out?” Dan asks after they’ve paid.

Phil grins. “You’ve read my mind.”

They’d passed the park earlier while they were walking. It’s only a few blocks away, and they find a secluded bench looking out onto a little grove of trees. After sitting down, they eagerly tear into the sweets.

“You know, we could’ve gotten several million views off of this back in the day,” Phil says, in between bites of a strawberry cheesecake-flavoured Kit-Kat. _“British Boys Try Japanese Snacks.”_

“You could still do a video on this,” Dan says. “I mean, you trying new sugary snacks is basically right on par with your brand right now, isn’t it?”

“I dunno. I know we did a Japan haul video last time, but I kinda want this holiday to be just for us.” He shrugs. “Is that stupid? I mean, we’re sharing Instagram stories, so it’s not like it’s totally private. Our audience is still gonna know vaguely what we’re up to.”

“You’re talking to someone who hasn’t posted on social media for months. Of course it’s not stupid. It’s nice to have private memories.”

“Even if it’s just private memories of us eating too many sweets on a park bench?”

“Especially then.” Dan elbows Phil playfully. “You do realize we’re talking about work again when we said we wouldn’t.”

“Goddammit.” Phil takes a ferocious bite of Kit-Kat. “Onto another subject then. What kind of Kit-Kat do you like the most?”

“I think the matcha ones are my favourite one so far. Those cheesecake ones taste a bit too artificial.”

“I like them,” Phil says, polishing off his last bite. “But I think I like the tiramisu flavour the most.”

“That’s ‘cause you’re a coffee addict.”

Phil steals the package of tiramisu Kit-Kats from between them. “Well then, just for mocking me, I get to eat the rest of these all by myself.”

—

Later, as they’re wandering around, looking for a place to have dinner, they come across posters for an acrobatic show taking place that night.

“Want to check it out?” Phil asks. “It starts at seven. I bet we could still get tickets.”

Dan shrugs. “Sure, why not? We’re on holiday. We should be spontaneous.”

As it turns out, _spontaneity_ means Dan getting chosen to come up on stage, dress in a green shirt, and participate in an epic rock-paper-scissors battle with one of the performers. There’s a twist involving bonking the loser with a plastic mallet that Phil still doesn’t quite understand, but it’s ridiculous and hilarious, and he films the whole thing, watching Dan fondly from behind his phone. They’ve performed on stage together so much these past few years that it’s almost odd to see him up on a stage with other people who aren’t Phil.

Back when they first met, Dan used to _hate_ being on stage, _detested_ being randomly chosen to participate, so much so that he made a YouTube video about it years ago. He still dislikes it to some extent, but he’s more than used to being up on stage at this point. And as Phil films him interacting with the performers, he sees the pure joy in his expression and demeanor.

It strikes him just how loose and comfortable in his own skin Dan seems these days. Even back on their first holiday to Japan, Dan would freeze up in unfamiliar situations, like when people would speak Japanese to him and he didn’t understand. Back then, his smile was sometimes forced, even when he was having fun, and he often slouched around, trying to make himself look smaller.

They’ve only been here a few days, but Dan’s smile has been genuine and easy. He takes it in stride when he makes mistakes. Underneath it all, he’s still the same old Dan, socially awkward, introverted nerd. He’s just a more confident version now, more willing to let people see him for who he is.

And Phil absolutely _loves_ it. He loves seeing his best friend blossom and become a better version of himself. He loves how dramatic and passionate Dan is, how much he enjoys making people laugh, how he naturally brightens up any room that he’s in.

Up on stage, Dan loses the rock-paper-scissors battle, and the woman he’s battling moves to bonk him on the head with her plastic mallet. At the same time, Dan manages to hit _himself_ with his _own_ mallet. The audience laughs in surprise, and Phil lets out a little cheer. Dan shoots him a little glance, his expression full of joy, and Phil’s heart feels full of love.

—

They actually set an alarm to wake up early the next day. They’re going to Tokyo DisneySea, Phil’s biggest request for this Japan trip. He grew up going to theme parks every year when he went to Florida with his family, and he’s always loved Disney. He even packed his Aladdin t-shirt just for this occasion.

Dan didn’t complain when Phil suggested it; he has a soft spot for theme parks himself. Some of his best childhood memories revolved around his one trip to Florida when he was about twelve years old. His mum had taken him on Space Mountain again and again despite being afraid of roller coasters.

The two of them haven’t been to a theme park since VidCon a few years ago, and Phil is really looking forward to a day of rides, overpriced theme park food, and making up weird games to pass the time while they wait in line.

They end up spending the whole day there.

Phil’s only ever been to theme parks in the summer, so he’s always associated them with feeling hot, sticky, dehydrated, and sunburned. But as it turns out, theme parks in November are _awesome._

For one, it’s cool enough outside that he has to wear his jean jacket. It’s also overcast, so there’s no real risk of his poor face and neck getting sunburned.

For another, it’s a weekday, so the park isn’t overly crowded. They never have to wait in line for more than half an hour, and they end up riding nearly every ride in the park, some of them multiple times over.

To top it all off, DisneySea itself is _amazing._ Even compared to the elaborate theming of Disney World in Florida, the details of this park are magnificent. There’s a whole frickin’ volcano right in the center of the park, a section of the park that looks straight out of Aladdin, and a Mediterranian harbour area that looks just like Venice. It even has gondolas moving through the canals.

“Remember when we went to Italy with Chris and PJ?” Phil says as they stare out over the fake Venice harbour. They’ve been on their feet for hours and have got some time to kill before their next FastPass, so they’ve decided to take a rest on a bench. They’ve bought some Mickey Mouse-shaped churros, which Phil had made them get after seeing loads of other people carrying them around. He’s never actually eaten a churro before, but he’s thoroughly enjoying the cinnamon sugary goodness.

“Of course I remember Italy. That was such a fun trip.” Dan smiles fondly. “I got really lucky with my YouTube friends, didn’t I? First, you score us a trip to Jamaica, then PJ wins us a trip to frickin’ Italy.”

Phil licks some cinnamon sugar off of his fingers. “And now, years later, you’re in Japan.”

“But I mean, that’s not a YouTube thing. Some rich company didn’t sponsor us to come here to force us to promote their weird product.”

“No. And thank god for that. Those underwater cameras were questionable at best.”

Dan laughs. “Remember how you were convinced that yours broke, and you were worried the company would hate you?”

“It was a valid worry,” Phil says. “The camera wouldn’t turn on.”

“And then it just turned out that you’d forgotten to charge it.”

“Hey. I was on holiday with my very hot new boyfriend. It was only natural that I forgot something as mundane as charging my camera.”

“I’m surprised I managed to function at all, then. You were shirtless half the time. It was very distracting.” Dan smiles. “Maybe we should go back to Jamaica sometime.”

“Relive some memories?”

“I mean, they’re great memories. Like swimming in the ocean together, and having our own hotel room all to ourselves for a week. Plus, I think that was when I really felt for the first time that YouTube was what I wanted to do long-term.” He shakes his head, suddenly looking solemn. “But it was also hard. I kinda felt we couldn’t really be ourselves. Not totally.”

Phil nods, understanding completely. It had been such a fun holiday, but Dan’s right. While the other YouTubers felt comfortable enough to get tipsy around the firepit at night and start sharing intimate details of their lives, he and Dan always held back, stuck to themselves. They learned on that trip how to put on a polite-but-distant facade that they managed to carry through their professional lives for the next decade.

“Italy though,” Dan says fondly, gesturing to the harbour in front of them. “Chris and PJ knew we were together, and I felt totally myself with a group of friends for maybe the first time.”

Phil smiles back. “That was pretty awesome, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah.” Dan glances over. “I know you’re the nostalgic one between us, but sometimes I feel ridiculously fond of our first few years together. I mean, hell, I would never want to go back to being twenty, but I miss parts of it sometimes. Just how easy and fun it was, hanging out with cool YouTubers and making videos.”

“I totally get it,” Phil says. “I miss it too, sometimes.”

They stare out over the harbour. For being in the middle of a theme park, it really does look like Italy.

Phil nudges Dan’s shoulder. “Hey. Maybe we should send PJ a picture of this harbour and trick him into thinking we went to Italy instead of Japan. It’ll be just like old times, when we used to send each other stupid prank messages all the time.”

Dan grins and pulls out his phone.

—

It’s dusk by the time Phil is starting to feel half-dead on his feet. After their break by the harbour, they spent several more hours running around and riding all of their favourite rides as many times as possible.

Fireworks are in an hour, and they’re determined to make it until then. You can’t go to Disney without fireworks, after all.

But they’re both exhausted. He’s just about to suggest sitting down and taking a bit of a rest when he spies the SS Columbia, a giant replica passenger ship stationed in the American Waterfront section of the park. They’ve passed by it multiple times today, but now that it’s starting to get dark, the mast and sides of the ship have been lit up in cheerful fairy lights.

“Look at that!” Phil says, pointing. “It’s so pretty. We’ve got to take pictures with it.”

“Okay,” Dan says, already pulling out his phone. “You stand there and pretend to be an explorer.” Phil stands in front of the railing and pulls a goofy expression, pretending to look like a sailor who’s spotted land in the distance.

After several photos, Phil steps towards Dan. “Maybe we should get someone to take our photo so we can have pictures together that aren’t selfies for once.”

“Good idea.” Dan scans the crowd before spotting a Disney cast member. She agrees to take their photo, so Dan hands his phone to her and heads over to stand in front of the bridge railing.

To Phil’s surprise, Dan puts his arm around Phil’s shoulders, pulling them close together. Feeling emboldened, Phil wraps an arm around Dan’s waist. They smile, and the cast member takes several photos before handing Dan his phone back.

 _“Arigatou gozaimasu,”_ he tells her, and he turns back to Phil to look through the photos.

They’re not works of art by any means; the lighting is too poor for that. But both of them are wearing relaxed, genuine smiles. Phil’s gaze lingers over their easy postures, especially Dan’s casual arm draped over Phil’s shoulders.

The thing is, he knows that simple gesture took a lot of bravery for both of them. They’ve taken coupley photos before, of course, but those have all been under the safety of their closest friends or Phil’s family. People who’ve known them for years.

Asking a complete stranger to take a photo of them acting affectionate in public… it feels like a big step for both of them, but one that Phil’s not at all afraid of. It feels _good._ It makes him feel brave, just like posting those videos back in June did.

“I love them,” Phil says. “We should get one printed and put it in our new house. Maybe in the lounge?”

“That’s an amazing idea.” Dan looks fondly at the photos for a few seconds longer before turning off his phone and tucking it into their backpack.

Suddenly giddy off of the high of doing something brave, Phil grins at Dan. “Hey, want to ride Tower of Terror again?”

“You’re on, mate.”

—

That night, after the fireworks show is over and they’re on the train back to the city, they look once more through all of today’s photos. There’s not all that many; they’ve been enjoying their day too much to want to take a lot of pictures. There’s just enough for them to remember the fun of the day.

“Can you send that one to me?” Phil asks when Dan scrolls to one of the pictures of them in front of the big passenger ship. “I want to send it to my mum. She wanted to know how Disney was, if it was just as good as the one in Florida.”

“Sure.” Dan sends the photo over, and Phil texts it to his parents. When it’s sent, he looks over. Dan’s still staring at the photo, a soft smile on his face. “You know, I think I’m going to send this to my mum.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I think she’d like it.” His voice sounds calm, his words decisive, but Phil can still see the slight tremble in his fingers as he adds the photo to his conversation with his mum and hits send.

Phil reaches over and gives his hand a light squeeze before letting go. “You okay?”

“Yeah. It’s just… a lot, you know? That I can do that now. I can’t believe it’s been _half a year_ since I told my family.”

Phil smiles. “I know. I’m still really proud of you.”

“I’m proud of me too. Of both of us.” Dan rests his head on Phil’s shoulder, and they stare out the train window together. “I’m also fucking _exhausted._ Why did we decide a whole twelve-hour day at Disney was a good idea?”

“Because it’s fun and magical,” Phil says. “The most magical place on earth, some would say.”

Dan nuzzles him a bit. “I think they’re wrong. _Japan_ is the most magical place on earth.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reblog on tumblr [here!](https://possumdnp.tumblr.com/post/641048197337382912/lkotryo1)
> 
> **Links to Relevant Content**  
> [Instagram stories from 13 November ](https://youtu.be/xTg9PFZaiQ0)
> 
> [Instagram stories from 14 November ](https://youtu.be/j4jvnYC_M04)
> 
> [Twitter video of Dan playing rock-paper-scissors ](https://twitter.com/danielhowell/status/1195002004226969600)
> 
> [The fifth picture in this Instagram post is Phil in front of the ship at DisneySea!](https://www.instagram.com/p/CHghJigDxSx/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link)


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all! Thanks for the lovely response to the first chapter! It really means a lot to me. 
> 
> I decided it would be a nice visual touch to add links to some of D&P’s social media content from their trip! See the notes at the bottom if you want to reminisce and get a better picture of what they’re seeing. :) (I also went back and added links to the footnotes of the first chapter!)
> 
> Next update on Thursday!

Dan was right; a whole twelve-hour day at Disney was probably a terrible idea when they have to meet up with their friends Duncan and Mimei the next day. But they’re meeting up in the afternoon at Yoyogi Park, so they have time to sleep in and relax.

Even so, Phil feels barely awake when they manage to roll out of bed the next morning. He has to drink half a pot of hotel coffee before he feels even a bit ready to head out and face the world.

“You gonna make it today?” Dan asks, stepping out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist, his wet hair curling wildly.

“Hrmmm,” Phil says. “My feet hurt. I haven’t walked this much in my life.”

“I’d mock us for not exercising enough, but my phone pedometer tells me I walked twenty thousand steps yesterday. That’s bloody ridiculous.”

“You should give me a foot massage.” He sticks out his feet in Dan’s direction.

“Ugh, rub your own feet, weirdo,” Dan says, backing away. “You haven’t showered yet. You still have theme park sweat on your feet.”

That’s entirely true, which makes Phil feel a bit gross. He peels himself off the bed and makes his way into the shower, which helps to soothe his aching body.

Half an hour later, they head out from their hotel to catch a train to Harajuku Station, which is right near the park where they’re meeting Duncan and Mimei.

To Phil’s absolute delight, their friends have brought their new pomeranian puppy with them.

“Is this mister Puff Puff?” he says excitedly, crouching down to greet the dog. Puff Puff hops around him excitedly, sniffing at his hand and wagging his tail eagerly. “You are such a good boy! I love you already!”

“What Phil means is, _‘hello, it’s nice to see you, dear friends whom we haven’t seen in over a year,’”_ Dan says, and Duncan and Mimei laugh.

“Don’t worry, Phil, I get it,” Mimei says. “I love Puff Puff so much, I’d rather say hello to him than me too.”

Phil grins, standing up and pulling her into a hug. “Nothing can compete with a cute dog, sorry.”

“Too true,” Duncan says. “So how are you two? Are you enjoying Japan so far?”

“We love it so much,” Phil says. “We’ve seen so many cool things already.”

“Yeah, we’re really glad to be back,” Dan says. “We especially wanted to thank you two for recommending we go see that digital art museum. It was so freaking cool.”

They start discussing their favourite exhibits of the museum as they take a walk around the park, and it’s like no time at all has passed between now and when they last saw each other in New Zealand. Duncan and Mimei have always been particular favourite friends of Phil’s; they’re easy-going and fun to talk to. He imagines that if they lived closer, they’d spend a lot more time with each other.

“Puff Puff is starting to get tired, I think,” Mimei says once they’ve made a full circuit of the park. Indeed, the pomeranian is lagging behind them, sniffing at a tree. When Mimei calls him, he just stares at her, reluctant to move.

“Finally,” Duncan says. “I forgot how much energy puppies had until we adopted him. We have to take him out on multiple walks a day to wear some of his hyperness out.”

They decide to give Puff Puff’s short, tired legs a break and head back to Duncan and Mimei’s place for some tea. Phil’s excited to see their home; he saw their old flat when he and Dan were last in Japan four years ago, but their friends have since moved to a larger flat in a sweet little neighbourhood, not too far of a walk from the park.

Once inside, they take off their shoes and sit down around the coffee table. Puff Puff practically attaches himself to Dan, insisting on being held and licking every inch of Dan’s face. The sight of such a tiny doggo being held by a giant man makes Phil’s heart melt. His partner is so good and gentle with animals.

“He really likes you, Dan,” Duncan says, coming back into the room with steaming mugs of tea in hand. “Tell me if he gets to be too much, and we can put him in another room.”

“Nah, I’m good,” Dan says. “No way I’m gonna give up spending time with this guy. May even kidnap him when you’re not looking.”

“So if he goes missing, you’ll know to search our backpack,” Phil says.

“If only our flat allowed dogs,” Dan says. “I think he’s the cutest dog I’ve ever seen.”

Mimei smiles at them. “Any plans to finally get your own dog?”

“Actually, we might,” Dan says, glancing at Phil. “We’ve kinda got some big news to share with you.”

“We’re moving into our own house!” Phil says. “So once that happens, it’s entirely likely we’ll finally adopt our dog.”

“Oh my god! Finally!” Mimei says. “You’ve been talking about a house for years.”

“Yeah.” Phil smiles. “I dunno when it’s gonna be finished, as we’re custom-building everything.”

“We’ve actually been working on it for a few years now,” Dan says. “Finding the right location took a long-ass time, and then of course we decided to complicate things by building the thing from scratch. But we’re hoping we’ll finally be able to move next year. Fingers crossed.”

“That’s amazing, congrats,” Duncan says, taking a sip of tea. “Do you have pictures yet? I’d love to see the process of building your own home.”

“Yeah.” Dan pulls out his phone and starts showing them the bare bones of their future home. “We have so many plans for the place. We’re putting in the kitchen counters next month. We’re hoping that if we have a nice kitchen, we’ll actually want to cook more often.”

“We debated for such a long time over those countertops,” Phil says, as Dan shows Duncan and Mimei some samples of their chosen countertop material. “Dan wanted this black marble, but I wanted this granite with sparkly gold running through it. Dan won that particular battle.”

“That’s ‘cause the gold looked tacky as fuck with the rest of our decor.” Dan shakes his head. “Honestly, we’ve been a complete _nightmare_ to talk to this past year. All we do half the time is debate the merits of the most boring-ass pieces of a house.”

Mimei smiles. “But I bet it will look great when it’s finished. Perfectly yours.”

Phil nods. “That’s what we wanted. A house that’s all ours. No weird building decisions that other people have made.”

“For sure,” Duncan says. “We love this flat, but for some reason, the builders decided that we should have no storage space anywhere. It doesn’t make any sense.”

They scroll through more photos, talking excitedly about all of their plans for the place: the floating staircase, the green accent wall of their lounge, all of the windows.

“And we made sure it would have a little back garden, perfect for a dog,” Phil says, reaching over to pet Puff Puff. “We can’t wait.”

“I can tell,” Mimei says. “Moving is very exciting, but it’s way too stressful. We moved here, what, three years ago? And we don’t want to leave anytime soon, just because packing everything up is so much work.”

Dan groans. “Don’t remind us. We’re gonna start packing at the start of next year, and we’re totally dreading it.”

“Dan had an existential crisis last time we moved,” Phil says. “But luckily, this is the last time we’ll be moving for a very long time.”

Duncan smiles. “We’ll have to come visit next time we’re in England. We’d both love to see the house.”

“We’d love to have you,” Phil says.

They head out after finishing their tea, taking a short train ride to Akihabara Station. Phil’s lucky that they have their friends leading the way, because he would definitely get lost otherwise.

“Akihabara is the best area in Tokyo for electronics and pop culture stuff,” Duncan says as they emerge from the train station. “We come here quite a bit, as it’s a really fun area to explore. I think you two will like it.”

That’s an entirely accurate assessment. This area feels like it was _made_ for them. There’s cool video game stores everywhere, anime retailers, stores selling the latest computer gadgets... basically, everything they could ever want. Wandering through the streets and poking around the shops makes for a very fun afternoon of exploration with their friends.

They’re on their way to their next destination when they pass by a maid café. Dan pokes Phil and points it out. “Hey, remember when we went to one of those together in Harajuku?”

Duncan laughs. “Phil looked so awkward when we first stepped inside and the maid greeted us as _‘Masters.’”_

Phil flushes, memories of their first holiday coming back to him, and Dan pats at Phil’s shoulder. “To defend him, I think we both thought it was, like, a super-kinky thing before we ate there.”

“I’m still not convinced it _wasn’t,”_ Phil says, trying to look pained. No, it wasn’t the creepy maid-themed sex dungeon he’d been half-expecting, but he’d never felt gayer than when he was being served tea and biscuits by a woman in a frilly pink maid outfit. Most of the other guys in the café couldn’t stop sneaking peeks at her, and Phil spent the whole visit feeling like an anxious gay meerkat.

Mimei laughs. “Don’t worry, Phil. No traumatizing café experiences planned for today. We’re taking you somewhere we think you’ll really like.”

That place ends up being a large, multi-story arcade, filled with every arcade game they can think of, and hundreds more Japanese titles that they’ve never heard of.

“You’re right,” Phil says, staring around him, feeling like all of his childhood dreams have just come true. “This is _way_ better than the maid café.”

They spend the next few hours playing games, competing against each other on games with two-player mode. They even find a Bubble Bobble machine, which Duncan and Mimei have apparently never played before. Phil enthusiastically explains the mechanics, eager to share his childhood favourite with his friends.

To commemorate the day, they crowd into a photo booth to take a group picture. They’d done this last time too, so it feels like tradition at this point. And despite the fact that the photos aren’t exactly great quality, Phil still treasures them. They remind him of fun days spent with his friends.

These pictures are going to be just as treasured as the ones from four years ago, Phil thinks, looking down at the strip of paper. They’ve drawn little doodles all over their pictures, including the date, so they’ll always remember when they took it.

“Look at your eyes, Dan,” Mimei says, amused. She points at his computer-enhanced face in one of the pictures. “You look gorgeous in that one.”

“Maybe I should consider wearing eyeliner,” Dan agrees. “My eyes have never looked better.”

“This is going to be hung right next to the Disney photo in our new house,” Phil says, holding up the strip of photos with pride. “It’s a masterpiece.”

“We could make a whole Japan photo collage to fill that one nook in the lounge,” Dan says softly. “Something really cool, you know?”

Phil smiles. “Well, we’d better keep taking good pictures then. We’ve got a lot of wall space to fill.”

After the arcade, they stop by a ramen place that their friends claim is one of their favourites. It’s probably the best ramen Phil’s ever had, he thinks, as he slurps down a noodle and accidentally splashes the table with broth.

Dan hands him a napkin. “Please don’t spray our friends, Phil. They might not invite us back.”

“A little bit of broth never killed a years-long friendship,” Duncan says.

“Do you ever think how long we’ve actually known each other,” Dan says. “Like, a long-ass time. We were so young when we first talked.”

“It’s strange,” Mimei says. “We all met from YouTube, and now, neither me nor Dan are really posting on the platform much anymore. It’s like things have come full circle.”

“Sometimes it doesn’t feel real, that we’re all actual adults,” Dan says. “I still feel like a kid who has no idea what he’s doing half the time.”

“I know,” Duncan says. “I mean, you two are buying a fancy house, for god’s sake! That’s big!” He smiles softly. “We have big news of our own, actually. I don’t think Mimei told you earlier, but we’re thinking of having a baby within the next few years.”

“Oh my god!” Phil says, a rush of excitement running through him at the news. “That’s amazing.”

“Congrats!” Dan echoes. “You guys will be the best parents. I just know it.”

“Thanks,” Mimei says, smiling. “It’s not a definite thing yet, of course, but we’re settled and happy, and it feels like the right time to start a family.”

Phil smiles. “I’m so happy for you.” His words are emphatically true, but in that moment, he also feels a pang of another emotion run through him, something strange and bittersweet. Suddenly, he feels overly, viscerally aware that he’s reached the point in his adult life where things are going to start changing rapidly. And even though they’re changing for the better, in ways that are making everyone happier, life will never be the same as it is in this moment.

He blinks, surprised and annoyed at himself for feeling this way. Who the hell feels sad over good news? Emotions are stupid and selfish, he decides, and he files that weird emotion into his brain as something to come back to later on.

Because right now, he’s going to sit here with his friends, eating this delicious ramen and celebrating the happy beginning of the rest of their lives.

At the train station later that evening, Mimei hugs him tight.

“We’ll come visit again soon,” Phil says. “Promise. We really love Japan.”

“Not if we come visit you first,” she says, releasing him. “And your new house. You’ll have to send us pictures in the meantime.”

“We will,” Dan says, coming to stand by Phil’s side. “Trust me, it’s pretty much taken over our lives, so you’ll probably be sick of us talking about it in a few months.”

“Never,” Duncan says, and moves in to give Phil a hug. “It was nice seeing you again.”

Once their train pulls into the station, they say their final goodbyes and step onto the train to head back to their hotel.

“That was fun,” Dan says as he waves to Duncan and Mimei from out the window. “I loved that arcade. I wish we had something like that back home.”

“Yeah, I loved that arcade so much,” Phil says. “And the ramen place too.” Phil suddenly remembers the conversation they’d had over dinner and has the urge to cuddle close to Dan. He restrains from full-on cuddling, since they never do that in public, but he does shift slightly closer, pressing the side of his body up against Dan’s comforting warmth.

Dan must sense that something is up, because he leans his head affectionately against Phil’s. “Hey. Everything okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just feeling emotional, I guess. Our lives really are changing, aren’t they? Ours and our friends’.”

“Is this about Duncan and Mimei saying they’re planning on having a kid?”

Phil blinks. It’s sometimes still a surprise when Dan intuitively understands what’s going on in Phil’s weird brain. “Yeah,” he says, not trying to deny it. “I’m so happy for them, you know I am, but I think it just surprised me. I think it made me realise we really are proper adults now. Which is stupid. I’m thirty-two. You’d think I’d realize I was an adult by now.” He bites his lip. “I hate that I felt this sense of… I dunno, weird grief when they told me. I _hate_ that I felt anything but pure happiness for them in that moment. I feel so immature.”

Dan strokes at his knee comfortingly. “We can’t help what our brains decide to make us feel. Sometimes they make us feel sad and shitty for no good or logical reason.”

“Yeah, I guess.” He shifts in his seat, hugging their shared backpack to his chest like it’s a comforting stuffed animal. “When they were talking about having a kid, I had this feeling in my gut, just like I did right before my graduation, or right before we bought our new house,” Phil admits. “So excited for the future, but also desperately and irrationally wanting to cling onto the present moment. Or even go back in time so I can do it all over again and not have to face the unfamiliarity that’s coming next.”

“I get it,” Dan says. “I mean, change has always been hard for you, has been ever since I met you. I don’t think that’s a thing to be ashamed of, ‘cause it’s who you are, and I like you for it.”

“You _like_ that I’m secretly feeling bittersweet over our friends’ good news?”

“Well, what I mean is that I like that you’re sentimental and really value your memories. I like that you tucked that strip of photo booth pictures we took today carefully inside our backpack so it wouldn’t get bent. And I like how much you genuinely appreciate the good times you have.”

“So what you’re saying is that I’m not a total weirdo?”

“Of course you’re not, you dork. You’re just human with confusing emotions who I happen to love a lot.”

“That’s a relief.” Phil smiles. “I love you too.”

“Glad we got that emotional crisis sorted,” Dan says.

Phil shakes his head. “I really didn’t mean for this to become a _thing_ for us to discuss. Especially on holiday.”

Dan scoffs. “Please. We discuss and dissect my emotional breakdowns all the time. I think we can handle yours every now and then, even if we are on holiday.”

Phil smiles. “I mean, my weird emotional holdups aside, let it be known that I’m still so excited for the future. Getting to meet our friends’ adorable little kid one day. Us moving to a new home. Your book being published and becoming a mega-bestseller. And getting a dog.”

Dan rubs a gentle circle on his knee. “Yeah? Me too.”

_“Especially_ the dog. You know how Duncan and Mimei were saying that they’ve been experiencing baby fever lately? I think I have puppy fever. I need a furry friend in my life, asap.”

Dan grins. “You’ve had that ever since I met you, bub. Remember all those dog pictures you used to send to me before we even met in person?”

Phil sighs dramatically. “This is what my parents denying me a dog as a kid did to me. Flirting by means of dog pictures. Tempting me to almost steal my friends’ very cute pomeranian. It’s truly tragic.”

Dan leans his head against Phil’s. “Soon.”

Phil closes his eyes and listens to the train hum around him, listens to the murmur of Japanese surrounding him, so different and yet similar to the London Underground trains. He feels a lot calmer after talking to Dan, as he always does. The future may be scary and coming at them fast, but there’s so many reasons to be excited for it.

_Soon._

—

On their last morning in Tokyo, Phil rolls over in bed, half on top of Dan, crushing him just a little.

“Hrmmmm,” Dan grumbles. “Heavy.”

“Kyoto today, Danny Boy. Train’s in a few hours.”

“You’re actually awake before me? Is the jet lag finally gone?” Dan mumbles, rolling over so that he’s facing Phil. He tucks his head under Phil’s chin, curling himself up to make himself smaller. “Normally, you need two cups of coffee in you before you’ll even talk to me.”

Phil slings an arm over Dan’s bare shoulders, pulling him even closer. Dan turned down the thermostat in the hotel room last night, and the air in the room feels a bit chilly. But with their bare chests pressed together, Phil feels perfectly warm.

“I mean, I think I’m awake ‘cause we’ve been getting like ten hours of sleep every single night,” Phil says. “But today, I think it’s ‘cause I’m excited. We’ve never been to Kyoto before.”

Dan makes a happy noise into Phil’s shoulder. “I know. I’m really excited too. Have I ever told you that I love train trips?”

“Mmmmm, maybe just a few times.” Phil closes his eyes, and despite his excitement, begins to drift off. Dan is just so warm and smells so good.

“Phil.” Dan’s voice breaks through his hazy thoughts. “We should get up. Want to take advantage of that shower one last time with you.”

He opens up his sleepy eyes and watches as Dan rolls out of bed and strips off his pants, walking to the bathroom. He doesn’t have his glasses on and can’t see worth a damn, but even Dan’s blurry bare ass is a welcome sight.

And really, if anything will get him out of bed, it’s the prospect of stepping into that shower and looking out over the Tokyo skyline one last time. Phil would honestly consider marrying that shower if he weren’t already basically married to Dan.

Stepping into the shower with a wet, naked Dan? Even better.

He removes his pants as well, letting them fall to the floor, and heads over to the bathroom.

“The city looks nice today,” Dan says. His curls are wet, flopping loosely onto his forehead.

Phil stands next to him and looks out too. It is indeed a beautiful day, not a cloud in the sky. Even though he’s very excited to go to Kyoto, he feels a pang in his chest that he’s leaving this amazing city behind with so much unexplored.

“I wish we could have, like, a year-long holiday,” Phil says. “So we didn’t have to leave here quite so soon.”

“Me too,” Dan says. “But we’re coming back in a week and a half. We’ve still got the Final Fantasy Café to look forward to, remember?”

“I know.” Phil turns, feeling last night’s strange bittersweet emotions return to him. “It’s stupid. I’ve traveled to so many different cities now that you think I wouldn’t get so sentimental after spending just a few days in one place.”

Dan smiles. “Remember how I told you last night how much I love your sentimentality? That’s still true. I find it stupidly endearing how you get so attached to people you’ve just met and places you’ve been in for just a little while.”

“Mmmm. Thanks for the reassurance." Phil leans in and wraps his arms around Dan’s shoulders, pulling him in for a kiss. "Now I think you should distract me. Make me feel not sad anymore.”

The spray of the rainforest showerhead hits his scalp. The water’s slightly too chilly for his own liking; Dan’s always preferred a slightly cooler shower to Phil’s own preference of showering in water so hot that his skin turns red by the end. But pressed up against Dan’s warm body, he really can’t complain.

He also is not complaining about the prospect of shower sex. They don’t really fuck in showers much these days. They used to, back in the early days when Phil still lived with his parents, as the water provided convenient white noise to block out most of their sounds.

By the time Dan moved to university and Phil got his own flat in Manchester, they still weren’t over the novelty of spending as much time together as possible. Every room of that flat became an opportunity to try something new.

But as the years have passed and the novelty of living together has worn off a bit, they’ve realized that shower sex is just kinda inconvenient. Especially because Phil is so fucking clumsy and always gets weak in the knees after a good orgasm. They’ve turned into a boring old, married couple who appreciates the reliability and simplicity of fucking on a bed or a sofa.

But they’re on holiday. They’ve got an amazing view, and an incredible shower. Just this once seems novel and fun.

Phil traces his way down Dan’s arm, feeling the muscles flex underneath his skin. He presses a kiss to Dan’s lips, to his jaw, to his neck. Dan’s head tilts to give him more room to work.

He licks at Dan’s throat, collecting water droplets as he moves up to his earlobe, tracing the cool metal earring with his tongue before nips at the shell of Dan’s ear.

“Fuck,” Dan says, and pushes his body impatiently into Phil’s. His cock is already half-hard and rubbing against Phil’s hip.

“You’re impatient this morning,” Phil says, moving his hand down and curling his fingers around Dan’s dick. “Feel good?”

“Fuck, yes. Obviously.” He bucks up slightly into Phil’s touch, his hand rising to curl into Phil’s wet hair. In response, Phil presses Dan into the wall of the shower for better leverage.

It’s right as Phil starts to speed up the motions of his hand that Dan shrieks out, _“Jesus fuck!”_ And it’s decidedly _not_ in a good or sexy way. Dan sounds properly frightened by something.

Phil’s eyes fly open, convinced that he’s managed to hurt Dan somehow. “Holy shit, what’s wrong?”

“There’s a fucking _window cleaner man_ right outside our window,” Dan splutters, slowly backing away.

“Oh my god,” Phil squeaks, looking outside. Indeed, there’s a man making his way up their window. He seems to be paying attention to his work and not to them, but Phil instinctively steps out of the spray anyway, groping for a towel to cover himself. “Do you think he can see our dicks?”

Dan laughs weakly. “The way these showers are situated, I’d place a bet that these windows are tinted so you can’t see in.”

Phil grabs a second towel and holds it out for Dan to take. “But don’t you remember that hotel opposite my Manchester flat? _Those_ windows weren’t tinted. Remember how many asses and boobs we saw?”

“So many,” Dan says, wrapping his towel securely around his waist. They both step out of the shower and hide in the corner of the bathroom, dripping puddles onto the tile while they wait until the window cleaner has hoisted himself up past their window.

“Well, if the windows aren’t tinted, I bet that guy’s used to seeing _a lot_ of penis,” Phil says. “But maybe it’s like being a doctor. Genitals are just boring to him now.”

“Are you trying to convince yourself of this, mate? ‘Cause you’re not convincing me.”

Phil shrugs. “Hey. We both almost died of shock. I’m just trying to lighten the situation.”

They look at each other and burst out laughing. Dan clutches dramatically at his chest. “Jesus fucking christ. This would only happen to us. It’s not a Dan and Phil holiday without a dramatic, emotionally scarring incident.”

“Is this another entry to add to your _‘reasons why Dan’s a fail’_ book?”

Dan rolls his eyes. “You were there as much as I was, bub.”

“Fine. Reasons why _both of us_ are a fail. But we’re not gonna tell anyone the full story of what we were up to anyway.” He peers around into the shower. “Do you think he’s gone now?”

“It’s been like five minutes,” Dan says. “I think he’s safely gone.”

Phil lets himself breathe. “Good.”

“We can finish showering together, but you don’t mind if I take a raincheck on that handjob, do you? I don’t think I could get it up again right now if I tried.”

Phil laughs and removes his towel from his waist. “Raincheck, then.”

—

As stressful as their months on tour were, Phil loved the experience deeply and learned a great many things about himself and the world. One of the most important lessons he learned was how to pack properly. Before 2015, he was a notoriously heavy packer, the sort who panicked at the sight of an empty suitcase and always brought along a dozen extra clothes, five pairs of shoes, a hair dryer, and a first aid kit — just in case.

But touring with Dan for months at a time has taught him the value of minimalism.

He’s so thankful for that as they drag their suitcases from taxi to train. They’ve got only two suitcases and their shared backpack between them, and honestly, Phil wouldn’t want any more stuff. It’s nice to travel light and not have to worry about dragging all of their crap around with them.

The train station is bustling with tourists and locals, and Phil’s glad they headed out early. His anxious self always gets a little stressed on travel days, worried that they won’t be able to find the right train platform, or convinced that he’s read their tickets wrong and their train will have already left.

But they’ve made it in plenty of time today. They’re able to browse around the shops at the station and buy some novelty train-shaped bento boxes. They take them to a bench near their platform and make themselves comfortable until their train arrives.

Dan busies himself reading through their Japan travel guidebook. It’s been his go-to distraction ever since they set off on holiday. Back home, they both have the bad habit of always pulling out their phones to soothe their nerves in public. But they’ve sworn off using their phones for anything but the camera and GPS functions on this trip, and they’ve both had to find other ways to distract themselves. _Lonely Planet: Japan 2019_ has quickly become Dan’s favourite distraction.

Phil prefers people-watching. He loves seeing the everyday lives of people: the businesswomen in crisp shirts and heels, the elderly couples off on a day trip, the kids in their school uniforms, the lost-looking tourists. Being a quiet observer of city bustle is one of Phil’s favourite things to do when he’s abroad.

Soon enough, their train pulls into the station, letting off a huge load of people. Dan tucks his book back into his backpack, and they wait around to board. Once they’ve stowed their luggage safely away and sat down in their assigned seats, Phil feels his anxious mind finally relax. They’ve made it in plenty of time, and they’re going to be in Kyoto in just a few hours.

Dan looks almost giddy. His leg is tapping out a beat, and he’s staring out the window, watching the bustle of passengers on the platform below them.

“Feeling excited? Or just nostalgic about the magic of train journeys in general?” Phil asks.

“I dunno. I don’t think I’m particularly nostalgic. I think I’m just plain excited about Kyoto.”

“Me too.”

As much as Dan says he’s not nostalgic, Phil thinks he is, just a little bit. Once the train starts moving, he watches as Dan takes a video of the scenery speeding by their window. He used to do this when they first started dating too, and then send Phil a plethora of blurry photos of England’s countryside by train (always photos, never videos; their phones were a whole lot crappier back then and would have imploded at the mere thought of sending a file as large as a video).

But now, they’re riding this train together, taking these little videos for themselves to look back on later. They might also share a handful with their followers on Instagram, depending on what they feel like.

Dan’s got a little smile on his face as he lowers his phone. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it? Look how green it is.”

“Yeah. It really is.” His stomach rumbles, and he eyes the bento boxes they’d bought at the train station. “This is stupid, but can we eat now? We didn’t eat breakfast.”

Dan smiles and hands one of the bento boxes over. “Of course we can.”

The scenery is, if anything, improved by the addition of the adorable train-shaped bento boxes. For overpriced train station food, they’re filling and tasty. They eat them with chopsticks, which takes Phil far too long. He’s really been practicing over the years, every time they get takeaway from a place that offers chopsticks. But he’s just not coordinated enough, especially in a moving vehicle.

Dan snorts with laughter every time Phil accidentally drops pieces of rice or resorts to stabbing at his vegetables. But it gets the job done.

For the rest of the two-hour journey, Phil alternates between staring out the window and playing Pokémon Shield, which has just been released today. It’s a fun game so far, and his starter companion, Sebastian the Sobble, is at level eight by the time the train is pulling into Kyoto Station.

Tucking his Switch into their shared backpack, Phil watches in excitement as their train comes to a stop. They’re finally here.

They’re staying in a small hotel that Dan had chosen for its minimalist, traditional Japanese decor and beautiful exterior bamboo garden.

“You picked a good one,” Phil says as they wheel their bags into the citrus-smelling lobby.

“Well, I have excellent taste,” Dan says, and moves forward to the front desk to check them in.

The concierge gives them their keys and a map to the city. “We are located close to the Gion district of Kyoto, which is very popular with tourists,” she says, showing them on the map. “I can also give you any advice you may need.”

_“Arigatou gozaimasu,”_ Dan says. “We’ll be sure to ask if we have questions.”

They wheel their bags to their room on the first floor of the hotel. It’s just as beautiful as the rest of the hotel, with honey-coloured wooden accents and sliding panel doors. There’s an artfully arranged bouquet perched upon the table in the center of the main room, with the bedroom and bathroom beyond two panel doors.

“I feel so relaxed already,” Phil says, looking around. “I feel like I’m at an actual spa.”

“That’s kinda why I booked this place,” Dan says. “I wanted us to feel relaxed. To fully celebrate the fact that we’re on holiday.”

“I love it.” Phil pulls him into a quick kiss. “But I also really want to explore Kyoto. Let’s enjoy this place later.”

They get their luggage safely put away in their room before heading out into the streets of Kyoto.

After being in a city as enormous as Tokyo, Kyoto feels a lot quieter, even though it’s still a reasonably large city of over a million people. It’s also a bit cooler here than it was in Tokyo, and Phil shivers slightly as they walk down the street. He makes a mental note to wear his thicker jacket tomorrow.

With the paper map from the hotel in hand, Dan takes charge of the navigation and leads them on a short walk to the district of Gion. On top of the hotel concierge’s recommendation, their travel guide claims that it’s the most scenic and beautiful part of the city. They’d purposefully booked their hotel in the area so they could check it out.

“Wow,” Dan says as turn down Hanamikoji Street. “I can’t believe this is a real place.”

It’s obvious why this district of the city gets hyped up. The road beneath their feet is paved with tidy rectangular stones, and the surrounding architecture is humble and traditionally Japanese, with latticed bamboo accents and red-painted trim. Minus the tourists milling around with cameras, it looks like they’ve stepped back in time.

“These used to be old tea shops,” Dan says. “Now, most of these are restaurants and shops, but they’ve preserved all the old architecture.”

“Wow, is this what I get for playing Pokémon on the train instead of reading the whole Kyoto section of the guidebook?”

“I mean, if we happen to come across a Pokémon while we’re out walking, you’ll have the clear advantage.”

Phil grins. “Okay then, mister tour guide. I’ll keep an eye out for Caterpies and Hoothoots while you tell me more about this street.”

They wander slowly up the street, taking it all in. It’s just so cool, knowing that at one point, this was how a lot of the city used to look. While he enjoyed the brightness and action of Tokyo, the architecture around here feels gentler on his eyes.

“It really feels like we’ve gone back in time, doesn’t it?” Phil says.

Dan nods. “It does. And you know what? If we’re lucky, we might even spot a professional geisha around here.”

“Really?” Phil says.

“Yeah. They tend to head out at night to get to entertainment gigs in other parts of the city though, so it’s not like they stick around here for long. But there’s still a chance we might see one.”

“I’ll keep an eye out, then.”

At the end of the road, there’s a gate to a temple, the surrounding wall and gate rooftop covered in dark shingles. Beyond the wall, Phil can see the roof of the temple.

“This is Kyoto’s first Zen temple. It was first built all the way back in 1202. It’s been restored a few times since then, but isn’t that fucking wild? _1202!”_ Dan goes on to explain everything he’s learned about the history of Japanese temples, and Phil smiles. He may mock Dan for his propensity to read up on the places they visit (and then lecture Phil all about his new knowledge), but it’s secretly very endearing that his partner has the desire to be an educated tourist and learn everything he can about where they’re touring.

“You want to go inside and check it out?” Phil says. “I mean, it sounds super neat. It’d be a shame to not see it.”

Dan grins. “Of course I want to see it. It’s over 800 years old. That’s _so cool.”_

It’s quieter through the gates, the smattering of tourists keeping their voices respectfully low. The temple grounds are minimalist, pathways through gardens of white sand and Japanese black pines. On one side of the building is a small rock garden with carefully raked sand weaving around the trees and rocks. Phil can’t imagine the patience it must take to rake this whole area into such perfectly circular patterns.

They walk all around the grounds, taking in the thoughtful landscaping. Phil doesn’t know all that much about Zen or Buddhism, but he loves how peaceful the temple grounds feel. His mind feels calmer just looking at the simple artistry of the rocks and trees around him.

“We can go inside, too,” Dan says. They’ve completed the circuit around the grounds of the temple and are now back at the front door.

Phil leads the way, and can’t help but gasp when he enters. The ceiling is covered with an enormous black-and-gold dragon mural. The detail is magnificent, each scale of the dragons practically glowing as they twist around each other. The artist has even made sure to capture the haziness of dragons’ scales as seen through the trails of their smoky breath.

“It’s gorgeous,” Phil says. “They look so fierce.”

“They really do.”

After admiring the entrance of the temple for a while, they move on to the adjoining rooms. The rest of the temple is far humbler in style, all white walls and brown wooden trim, but it’s no less beautiful. They make their way through the temple, looking into the interior rooms, and admiring another rock garden through the windows. This one has wave patterns drawn into the sand and around the three rocks.

In the drawing room at the back of the temple is a golden screen painting of two humanoid figures, one with grey skin, the other with green.

“Who are they?” Phil whispers as they admire the art.

“Those are two of the most respected weather gods,” Dan says. “I think the guidebook said that this screen painting here is a replica, but the original is really famous.”

Phil can see why. The gods look fearsome, hovering in the clouds, their sashes floating around them like wings. Never underestimate the power of the weather, he thinks.

Once they’ve toured the whole temple, they head back outside.

“I’m glad we saw that,” Dan says. “It’s so interesting seeing something so old, just thinking about how people hundreds of years ago were looking at the same thing.”

“I loved that dragon ceiling,” Phil says. “And the rock gardens. It felt so peaceful to walk through.”

Dan nods. “Well, I think feeling peaceful is the point of a Zen temple, so I guess it’s served its purpose well.”

They head back down Hanamikoji Street, and Phil’s stomach grumbles when he smells something delicious wafting through the air. It’s been hours since their lunch on the train. “You want something to eat?” he says. “I’m kinda hungry.”

After some deliberation, they decide to have okonomiyaki from one of the cute little shops. They tried it for the first time last time they were in Japan, and for something as unappealing-sounding as a cabbage pancake, they both ended up loving it. It’s an even better option now that Dan’s eating mostly vegetarian these days. Phil can get his meat of choice, and Dan can get something with lots of vegetables.

They manage to get a good seat in the little shop right by the window, so they can look outside while they eat.

“Maybe we’ll see a geisha,” Phil says hopefully, looking at the people on the pavement outside.

Unfortunately, they don’t manage to catch a glimpse of a geisha that evening, but they are kept entertained by the antics of the tourists passing by outside. There’s a dad with a professional-looking camera who is trying to corral his very hungry family into taking ‘just one more’ family portrait, a huge group of German tourists, and most entertainingly, an American dressed up as a fake geisha.

“What should we do after this?” Phil asks when they’re nearly finished eating.

“I know we should probably stay out and explore the city, but if I’m being honest, I’m a little tired,” Dan says.

“Well, that’s the good thing about holidays,” Phil says. “You don’t have to feel guilty about relaxing.”

Dan takes another bite of his pancake. “Is it sad that I kinda just want to go back to the hotel room and play the new Pokémon game until we pass out?”

“Definitely not,” Phil says. “Or if it is, then I’m a sad person too. I’ve been low-key looking forward to playing it again all day.”

Dan grins. “And this is why we’re perfect travel companions.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reblog on tumblr [here!](https://possumdnp.tumblr.com/post/641303736497618944/lkotryo2)
> 
> **Links to Relevant Content**  
> [Instagram stories from 15 November](https://youtu.be/DSrTS1KBm2E)  
> [Instagram stories from 16 November](https://youtu.be/go_y3Tkjq38)  
> [Their fancy Tokyo shower, featuring the surprise window cleaner ;)](https://twitter.com/AmazingPhil/status/1195698912624967680)  
> [Kyoto tourism website’s overview of Kennin-ji temple](https://www.discoverkyoto.com/places-go/kennin-ji/) (D&P never mentioned going here, but it’s right by where they were visiting, and it was too pretty not to include)  
> [The first three Instagram stories from 17 November](https://youtu.be/ALMk67U8j0U) (due to Phil’s outfits and the times of day in these photos, I think this set of pictures was taken on two separate days)


	3. Chapter 3

“Those monkeys are totally us,” Phil says, gesturing at a pair of macaques. They’re basically sitting on top of each other, one of them grooming through the other’s fur. It is very reminiscent of when he and Dan rescue each other from stray eyelashes, or when they’re sitting drowsily on the same sofa at the end of a long day, running their fingers soothingly through each other’s hair.

“I’m totally the one being groomed,” Dan says. “Look how relaxed he looks.”

“What, so I’ve gotta be the one dealing with your gross fleas and ticks?”

“Yup. It’s ‘cause you love me so much. You’ll literally sit around and pick out my itchy fleas.”

They watch as the monkey being groomed sits up and reaches over to start picking through the fur of his companion.

“Well, I guess you’re willing to deal with my fleas too,” Phil says smuggly.

“I mean, obviously,” Dan says, and then makes a face. “Ugh. We’re too damn sappy. We’re literally comparing ourselves to itchy monkeys.”

“Don’t diss the monkeys, Dan.”

Truth be told, Phil thinks he might be a little obsessed with the macaques. They’ve seen ancient buildings, beautiful trees, their long-time friends… but nope, Compared to everything else he’s experienced in Japan, the majority of the pictures he’s taken on this trip have been of these monkeys.

They’re just so cute and peaceful-looking, with their fuzzy bodies and red faces. And he’s never seen wild monkeys before, especially not up on a scenic mountain like this. It’s just a really cool experience.

“Do you ever think we’re actual furries?” Dan grumbles as he takes yet another photo.

“Animals are great,” Phil says. “Doesn’t mean that we’re furries.”

Dan gives him a look. “Remember how we’re going to Nara Park on Monday because you really wanted to see the deer? And how you insisted on trying on all those headbands with animal ears on them at Disney? I think you’re a furry, mate.”

Phil huffs. “You wanted to go feed the deer just as much as I did when we were planning out our Kyoto itinerary. You were the one who brought it up in the first place.”

Dan grins. “I mean, yeah. And that’s what makes us good together, I reckon. Compatible furry-ness levels.”

Phil elbows him in the side.

—

It’s four in the afternoon by the time they reach their final destination of the day, Fushimi Inari Taisha, a Shinto shrine that’s famous for its thousands of bold red torii gates. Phil had done some reading up on this place in their hotel room this morning. It turns out that this is the most important shrine dedicated to Inari, the Shinto god of rice.

If Phil were a god of rice, he thinks that he would definitely be pleased with this shrine. It feels like a place of worship and reverence, and the giant gate at the front of the shrine is already an impressive sight.

“Not to rehash the _‘we’re total furries’_ argument from earlier, but there’s little fox statues all over the place,” Dan says, gesturing to one of them. They’re adorable, standing guard right by the front gate of the shrine.

“I read about those,” Phil says. “Foxes are the messengers of Inari, and they’re a really important symbol. Pretty much every shrine to Inari in Japan includes a fox statue.”

“Look at you, being knowledgeable. Are you taking over my role as tour guide today?”

“Nah. I just stole your guidebook for some light reading while you were showering this morning, ‘cause you were taking forever.” He looks closer at the fox. It’s wearing a handsome red collar. “Imagine if our postman were a fox, and he just screeched at our door every time we got a letter.”

“I dunno, that might be preferable to human contact and trying to make awkward conversation. Now c’mon. Let’s go find the trails.”

They make their way to the back of the main shrine to where the hiking trails start. There’s a fork in the road, each pathway covered by dense rows of red torii gates.

Phil gazes up at the brightly coloured gates. “Wow. I’ve never seen anything like this.”

“There’s so many of them,” Dan agrees.

Walking up the trail underneath the gates is fun for the first half hour. They offer an aesthetic shield from the sun, and the ancient lamps are pretty cool to look at.

As the trail winds up the mountain, the gates become fewer in number, and thirty minutes in, they come to an overlook over the city.

“It’s really cool,” Phil says, taking a few photos. “Look, you can see so far.”

“The trail keeps going,” Dan says, looking up ahead. “I’d really love to go to the top and get the whole experience. You up for it?”

Phil’s a little bit tired from touring the monkey sanctuary and the adjoining bamboo forest earlier today, but they’re only in Kyoto for a short period of time, and who knows when they’ll be back. He wants to soak up all of the Japanese experiences he can. So he shrugs and nods in agreement. Why the hell not.

As it turns out, their guidebook’s description of this being a mountain hiking trail was completely accurate. They end up climbing for a _long_ time, the path taking them straight uphill.

But the thing is, Phil is starting to get tired and hungry.

And when Phil gets tired and hungry, he gets proper _hangry._ Overly dramatic childish, and fully five seconds away from a meltdown at any given moment. It’s one of his more embarrassing quirks, but it’s legitimately hard for him to stop acting immature once he gets past a certain level of hunger and tiredness.

He hit that point about an hour and a half into this hike, and he has no idea how much longer it’ll be until they get up to the top of the mountain.

“Should we keep going?” Dan says, looking back to where Phil has been trailing behind him for the last five minutes. He gestures up at the sky. “It’s getting dark.”

Phil clamps his mouth shut, barely restraining himself at snapping at Dan for how _goddamn stupid_ it is to point at the sky when you’re referring to how dark it is. He gives a curt nod as a reply.

“Was that a yes?”

“You wanted to go to the top of this giant mountain. So we’re going all the way to the top.” Phil knows he’s being short with Dan, but he doesn’t have it in him to be polite.

“You’re sure?” Dan says, stopping.

Phil sighs dramatically. “It’d be pretty goddamn pointless to turn around now, Dan.”

Dan frowns, looking concerned. “Bub, stop. I did want to go to the top, but I think that both of us underestimated how long this hike would be. We already saw that great view of the city, so I’d be perfectly happy to turn around now.”

Phil rubs his hands over his face, frustrated and annoyed with himself for snapping. “I don’t think I can make it. I think I’m just really hungry and tired. I’m sorry.”

Dan walks back over to Phil. “Hey. How about we take a break and then decide what to do? There’s a rock over there we can sit on, and I put some almonds and chocolate in our bag this morning. Why don’t we have a quick snack? I think that would make both of us feel a lot better.”

Phil manages a tiny smile. It feels like a kinder response than he deserves. “You had food in the bag the whole time and you didn’t tell me?”

Dan leads them over to the rock. “I didn’t not tell you on purpose. I just knew we were doing quite a lot today, and I figured it might be nice to have some emergency snacks.” He rummages in the backpack and pulls out a package of almonds. “Here.”

“I was hoping we could eat the chocolate, not the boring nuts,” Phil says, but dumps a handful of almonds into his palm anyway.

“Almonds are good for you. They’ve got protein and nutrients and shit.”

“So does chocolate, I bet.”

“Sure, buddy.”

They munch on their snack, watching the world go by. Only a few other hikers pass by their rest spot; most people seemed to have turned around after the first viewpoint.

They only stop for fifteen minutes, but even the short snack break does them a world of good. When they stand back up, Phil still feels tired, but he doesn’t feel quite as scrappy and ready to give up on ascending the mountain, especially now that it’s growing dark outside.

“Okay. Let’s climb this bish,” he says, stretching his legs.

“You sure? I don’t want you to do this just because you think I want it. I’m perfectly fine if we turn around.”

“Yeah. I’m totally sure. I feel a lot better now. And I mean, I want to see the view from the top too.”

They set off again up the trail. It’s dark out, but there’s lanterns every few metres to light their way.

And as it turns out, the top of the mountain was only a twenty minute walk. The trail even flattens out a bit towards the end, making the last bit of the walk fairly easy. Phil is so thankful that they stopped to take a break rather than turning back around.

Though Kyoto is not nearly as large as Tokyo, it’s still amazing to look down from this mountain top and see all the lights. It’s such a different view from here than it was at the other viewpoint, especially now that the city’s lights are beginning to turn on.

“I’m glad we didn’t turn around,” Phil says. “This was so worth it.”

“It really is.”

Phil leans against him. “Hey. Thank you. For noticing I wasn’t feeling good back there, and for not being mad at me for being an asshole to you.”

“Mate, it’s not hard to notice something’s wrong when someone’s practically biting your head off,” Dan says, but he has a smile on his face. “Apology accepted.” He nudges Phil’s arm. “Do you want to know a secret?”

“Of course I do.”

“I was barely keeping it together myself. I totally wanted to turn around and give up, but I thought you would be disappointed in me. So I’m glad we stopped so we can actually say we climbed all the way up this mountain.”

Phil laughs. “Why are we both so stupid and stubborn? We should’ve just said something.”

“Because we’re us. We wouldn’t be us if we weren’t stupid and stubborn.”

—

The next day, they wake up refreshed and level-headed. The world looks a lot softer on the other side of a good night’s rest. Phil stretches his legs and slowly opens his eyes to the morning light.

Dan’s not next to him in bed, and he can hear the sound of the shower in the adjoining room. The room smells like coffee, and when he sits up, he sees that there’s already a pot of hot coffee and some sort of breakfast food sitting on the table. Dan must’ve ordered it while he was still sound asleep. His heart feels warm.

When Dan comes out of the shower, Phil’s dragged himself out of bed and is enjoying a nice cup of coffee by the window.

“Kinkaku-ji temple today,” Dan says as he starts to put on his clothes. “You excited?”

“Of course,” Phil says. “Especially now that I’ve gotten some sleep.” He frowns. “You weren’t up for too long before me, were you?”

Dan shrugs. “Just a few hours. I played some Pokémon and ordered breakfast. It was a really relaxing morning, actually.”

“Your insomnia seems better here, though,” Phil says.

“If you mean I’m actually sleeping rather than pacing around with too much on my mind, then yeah,” Dan says. “I think we walk so damn much that I just collapse at the end of the day with no thoughts in my brain. In the best way possible, of course.”

Phil takes a sip of coffee and stands up to head to the shower. “Better get ready to tire yourself out with even more walking today, then. We’ve got a temple to see.”

Their main destination today is Kinkaku-ji, a famous Zen Buddhist temple. Equally as impressive as the golden-coloured temple itself are the surrounding classical Japanese gardens and the scenic lake.

They’re technically still in the middle of the city, but he can only hear bird sounds, the breeze through the trees, and the murmur of the other tourists around them. It makes him feel like he’s miles away from civilization, totally at one with nature.

This temple is a part of the same sect of Buddhism as the ancient temple they’d visited a few days ago, the one built in 1202. Despite that, they don’t feel the same at all. Phil delights in how different the two temples’ landscaping is from one another. While the first temple they saw was surrounded by minimalist, monochrome rock gardens, Kinkaku-ji feels like it’s in the middle of a serene forest.

They walk along the path by the lake, breathing in the fresh air and enjoying the sights. The leaves are still autumn-red here, making a beautiful backdrop for the gold of the temple.

Phil sees a flash of movement in the water, and when he glances down, he sees that there’s several fish in a variety of colours. “Oooh, there’s koi in the lake,” he says, pointing them out. They pause in their walk along the path to watch the fish swim around. “You reckon Norman could beat these guys in a fight?”

Dan snorts. “Shhhh. Buddhism is supposed to be about being enlightened and connecting to the world, not starting fights between these perfectly lovely koi and our very small, angry fish child.”

“You’re probably right.” He watches as one of the koi swims up, its little whiskered mouth breaking the surface of the water before it dives back down again. “What if we put a koi pond into our new garden? I reckon it’s big enough for a pond.”

“Can koi even live in England?” Dan says.

“Yeah, we looked that one time after we redecorated Dil’s back garden, remember? I found that website with those cool wooden fishponds.”

“Didn’t we determine that it would be too expensive to maintain?”

Phil shrugs. “I guess. But it’d be pretty cool. Then any time we were feeling sad or stressed, we could just head out to the back garden and pretend we were back in Japan. A little moment of zen, you know?”

Dan looks over at him fondly. “That does sound really nice. We can definitely talk about it when we get home, when we start finalizing our landscaping.”

They continue walking a little further down the path, following the curve of the lake. Dan is uncharacteristically quiet as they walk, his face pensive. Phil wants to ask him if something’s up, but he doesn’t want to intrude on Dan’s thoughts.

“On the subject of when we get home,” Dan finally says when they reach a little bridge. They have a great view of Kinkaku-ji temple from here. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course. You know you can.”

Dan lets out a breath. “What do you think about getting married after we move into our house? Nothing much. Just a beautiful little ceremony with a handful of our favourite people?”

Phil looks over, surprised but not entirely shocked that this is what Dan’s been thinking about as they’ve been walking along. They’ve discussed marriage numerous times over the years, and they more or less consider themselves married in all but legal status. But both of them have always been sort of apathetic about the idea of actually going through the process of signing the legal documents, much less having an official ceremony.

“Really?”

“Yes.” Dan suddenly looks shy. “I mean, obviously only if you want. I just thought doing it after we move would be a good time.”

Phil smiles and bumps their shoulders together. “I want to. You know I always said I’d officially marry you if you wanted.” He looks over. Dan is staring out over the water, his expression full of thought. “What brought this on? It can’t have been my hunger-induced breakdown up on the mountain yesterday. That was, uh. Definitely not my most attractive moment.”

Dan tilts his head and gives him a despairing look. “You know I love you even when you’re hangry and exhausted and bitching at me about being forced to climb an unexpected mountain, rat.”

“Just checking,” Phil says. “But really. What changed? I thought you were always sorta… I dunno, indifferent about the whole concept.”

“I was. I still am. I dunno. It’s just… it’s stupid.” He sighs. “This may be a bit of a long ramble.”

“Good thing we have all the time in the world.”

Dan continues staring out into the water, and Phil looks too. The golden reflection of Kinkaku-ji wavers as a breeze picks up. Finally, Dan speaks. “Do you remember back in 2013 when England finally got its shit together and made it legal for gays to get married, and we sat up all night watching the news and drinking wine and talking about if we should get married?”

Phil smiles. It had been a good day. “Of course I remember. We were so ecstatic. You even cried a little.”

“I did. I guess at that point, the thought of marrying you shifted from something theoretical to something that we could _actually_ do one day. But I was still absolutely _terrified._ Never of you obviously. Always of myself and my own identity.”

“Yeah,” Phil says, nodding. He knows this well.

“I’ve been thinking it over a lot lately, and I think a similar mental shift happened when I finally came out to my family this year. But it was a better shift. One that I wasn’t so terrified of, because I suddenly didn’t have to hide myself away anymore.”

Phil nods again.

“The thing is,” Dan says, “when I was a kid, I always pictured my nana and my mum at my future wedding. I would picture them in the very front row. Every kid does, probably, when they’re young and their family is all they know.”

“Of course.”

Dan smiles wistfully. “So you know how my parents got married when I was six, right before my brother was born? For that whole year, I used to imagine myself getting married, in the generic sort of way little kids do. I think I actually made my nana officiate my wedding to my stuffed bear.”

“That’s adorable.” He hasn’t heard this story before, but he always loves it when he learns something new about his favourite person.

“It is.” His expression saddens. “And then some years passed, and I realized I was gay, and suddenly, the whole concept of a straightforward wedding that I could casually invite my family to with no fuss just kind of…”

“Slipped away?”

Dan nods "And I convinced myself it would never happen. So even when marrying you became legal, I didn’t know if they would even want to attend. If they would still love me.”

“And now that’s changed.”

“Yeah. Now they know about me, and how much I fucking love _you,_ and how you’re so goddamn important to me. And suddenly, getting married doesn’t seem so bad or scary. It just feels like a way I can openly express my love for you, to them.” He shakes his head. “I don’t know what I’m saying. It’s not like I ever _needed_ a wedding to be happy with you. And it’s not like I needed _my family_ at my wedding. I know this probably sounds so stupid.”

Phil tilts his head. “I don’t think it’s stupid to want your nana at your wedding. She was your biggest supporter growing up. And your mum is really lovely too. You’ve been a lot closer with her this year.”

“I have.” Dan leans against the bridge railing, watching an orange-and-white koi swim in circles underneath them. “I guess that ever since we came out, I’ve just been thinking about it more. And the thought of like, expressing our love and commitment to each other in front of all of our friends and family suddenly seems like a thing I genuinely want to do.” He makes a face. “That was probably the saddest, worst proposal ever, sorry.”

Phil hooks their pinky fingers together for a few seconds before pulling away, their little way of being subtly affectionate in public. “Don’t be sorry. I like to keep things low-key, remember? I don’t need a whole frickin’ flash mob to know that you love me. And besides, I like knowing what’s going on inside your brain.”

“Good.”

“For the record, I’m very excited you asked me. I can’t wait to say a bunch of very sappy words to you in front of our loved ones.” He smiles. “Especially after this year. I think we deserve it.”

“Yeah.” Dan ducks his head. “I mean, I don’t want this to be too expensive or over-the-top, obviously. You know I think that fancy rich-people weddings are a part of capitalism hell, and I’d rather donate all that money to a good charity anyway. But a simple celebration with just, like, twenty people might be fun.”

“That sounds perfect for us.” Phil’s heart feels light, and he can’t believe this conversation is really happening. “But even if it’s simple, you know this means even more planning and arguing over colour schemes. We’ll have _just_ finished arguing over our house’s decor.”

“I like to keep us busy, Phil. Do you know how bored we would be without a stressful project with a looming deadline?”

“I know.” He looks over at Kinkaku-ji’s beautiful golden walls, towering up on the other side of the lake, and the red and gold autumn trees that surround it. “So how do you feel about gold as part of our wedding colour scheme?”

—

Nothing’s really changed between them, not really. They’re already as married as two people can be, have been for years. And it wasn’t a proposal so much as an agreement to have an official celebration of their love in a year or two.

But Phil’s brain can’t stop buzzing with excitement for the rest of the day. He practically floats through the rest of their tour of Kinkaku-ji’s grounds and their afternoon exploration of northern Kyoto. Because he’s in a beautiful place with a guy who loves him and wants to marry him, and basically, he feels like this holiday is the most romantic thing to ever happen to him.

And maybe Dan’s feeling that exact way too, because they’re all over each other the second they get back to their hotel room that night.

“I can’t believe you asked me to get married,” Phil says in between heated kisses.

“I can’t believe I actually asked you,” Dan says, stuffing his hands down the back of Phil’s jeans and squeezing at his bare ass (he always was a true romantic). “It was honestly kinda spontaneous.”

“Well, I’m glad for your spontaneity, then.” He tugs at Dan’s shirt impatiently, and they quickly shuck off their clothes, falling into a naked heap onto the bed.

Dan groans as they rub together, a deep sound that goes right to Phil’s stomach. Not in the mood to leave Dan to go searching for lube, he impatiently licks his hand and reaches down for Dan’s cock, which produces another lovely deep sound from his throat.

“So do I get to consider you my fiancé now?” Phil pants as his hand starts to move faster over Dan’s cock. His own hips are moving of their own accord, grinding down onto Dan’s hipbone, desperately searching for friction.

“Oh god. Fucking hell,” Dan moans, his head tilting to rest on one of their pillows, watching Phil’s movements with hazy eyes. His hips occasionally buck up to meet Phil’s hand. “Do you want to?”

“Kinda has a nice sound to it, doesn’t it? Fiancés. I’m your fiancé and you’re my... _mmphhh—”_ His sentence is cut off when Dan’s mouth crushes into his, his tongue tracing Phil’s lower lip with fierce passion.

“Why the fuck are you talking so much,” Dan mumbles into Phil’s mouth, and Phil grins, slipping his tongue into Dan’s mouth. His eyes close, and his hand moves even faster.

He’d really meant to draw this out tonight. They’d been practically eye-fucking each other over dinner, and he’d had the wicked thought to tease Dan once they got back to the hotel. To make it last for hours, to make Dan squirm and beg for release, to make both of them feel absolutely amazing when they finally came.

But that’s definitely not going to happen tonight, no way in hell. They’re both so wound up, both of them so turned on, that it only takes a few more minutes for Dan’s hips to start snapping forward with purpose, his breaths coming out in sharp little moans. And Phil can’t help but give into it.

Once Dan’s come, he lays there panting on the bed, looking thoroughly fucked out. Phil feels his whole body tense with need just looking at his kissed-red lips and messy hair.

After Dan’s breath has leveled out a bit, he looks over at Phil and grins, his eyes half-closed. “Fucking hell. I didn’t know that asking you to marry me would turn you on quite that much.”

“Yeah, well,” Phil says, his brain too filled with lust to complete the sentiment.

“I reckon we can call ourselves fiancés if you want,” Dan says. “But honestly, I just wanna keep being _us._ Doesn’t matter what we are to each other, or what we call our relationship, as long as we keep on together doing fun things.”

“Like having really hot sex and going to see new things every day?”

Dan moves so he’s hovering over Phil, leaning down to kiss him while he takes his dick into his hand. _“Exactly_ like that.”

—

There’s a whole big herd of deer in Nara park, and honestly, Phil thinks it’s _unfair._

Japan gets adorable deer who will bow for snacks.

America gets raccoons and opossums, precious little trash critters.

But London’s wildlife just consists of scrappy foxes and pigeons. Granted, he loves watching the pigeons flock to their balcony to eat the seed they put out, but they’re boring compared to _bowing deer._

“You’re like frickin’ Snow White,” Dan says, as the deer flock around Phil and his snacks.

“Do you think they’ll murder me when I run out of snack?” Phil asks. He’s running low on the biscuits they’d bought to feed the deer, and he’s getting worried. There’s five deer surrounding him right now, and he’s worried deer mutiny will happen soon.

“I’ll save you if they do decide to murder you,” Dan says. “But somehow, I think you’re safe. There’s loads of other tourists with snacks. They’ll find someone else to mooch off of. Like me.” He pulls a cracker out of the bag they’d purchased earlier and holds it out.

“My hero,” Phil says as two of the deer flock over to Dan. All furry jokes aside, Phil loves that Dan loves animals just as much as he does. He loves that Dan’s currently looking at the deer with the same expression he wears when there’s a particularly cute dog around. He’s a gentle giant. He’s _Phil’s_ gentle giant.

His stomach jolts in excitement, as it has been doing since yesterday afternoon, when he remembers that he can consider Dan his _fiancé_ now. It doesn’t feel real at all.

Like Dan, he was never that into marriage as a concept. A few years ago, during a particularly stressful tax season, he’d done twenty minutes’ worth of Googling to see if being married would make filing their taxes any simpler. But honestly, it didn’t seem worth the hassle.

And marrying for the romance? Well, they know perfectly well that they love each other. They don’t need a public ceremony or a piece of paper to prove that.

So he never expected to be that person who became sappy and googly-eyed over the prospect of calling someone his fiancé, or someone who wanted to start researching all the overpriced wedding venues in the greater London area.

But here he is, watching his Disney princess of a boyfriend — _fiancé!_ — feed a deer a cracker and coo to her about how sweet she is. And he’s thinking about how romantic it will actually be to stand up in front of their closest friends and both of their families and read out some overly sentimental vows, competing to make each other cry the most.

All Phil feels in this moment is soft and sappy and in love. He wishes right now that he could somehow immortalize this time and place, that he could always return to this memory of being so fondly in love with this man feeding a deer some crackers.

And then Dan looks up at him and smiles. Usually, his brow is furrowed, his mind busy with heavy thoughts. But right now, he’s wearing a simple expression free of tension. He simply looks _happy._

Phil takes a quick picture with his phone, so he can always remember this moment.

They eventually run out of snacks, and luckily, the deer move onto another group of tourists without murdering him and Dan. They end up wandering over to the center of Nara Park, where there’s facilities and food.

To Phil’s delight, there’s also some gacha machines, one of which is selling little statues that look like dogs with bird feet. They’re weird and ridiculous, so of course they have to buy three. Phil declares them their most important souvenirs of the trip.

They’re about to move on to explore more of the park when Phil’s eyes are drawn to another gacha machine a few down from the dog-birds. This one is selling rings made of cheap metal (or possibly even plastic? Phil can’t tell without touching them). But he can’t take his eyes off of them. They’re _perfect._

“Hey, give me some money,” he says, holding out his hand.

“We’re not getting another dog-bird,” Dan says. “We’re not gonna have enough room in our new house for all of this junk. Even if it’s very cute junk.”

“No. It’s for that.” He points at the ring gacha.

Dan’s expression softens into pure fondness. “Phil Lester, you sap. You’ve been thinking more about getting married?”

“Maybe just a little bit,” Phil says. Which is a total lie. He’s been thinking about it all day long. “But I mean, you were the one who proposed marriage without a ring. That’s very untraditional of you. And you know I like my traditions.”

Dan scoffs. “Have you ever met me? I’m not really a traditional person. And I didn’t exactly _propose,_ Phil. Like, I didn't even plan it. I just casually asked if you would be up for getting married one day in the next few years, and you happened to agree.”

“That’s like the _definition_ of proposing, Dan. Now give me money so we can buy rings and make it official.”

Dan grins and digs in his pocket for a few more coins to give to Phil. Despite his teasing, he crowds in as Phil puts the coin into the machine.

The first capsule rolls out, and Phil eagerly pops it open to get the ring. It’s silver and has a small, very fake-looking emerald embedded into it.

“Very nice,” Dan says, taking it from Phil and turning it over in his hand. “It’s not tacky or cheap-looking in the slightest.”

“Hey, it’s supposed to be sentimental, not expensive,” Phil says, already putting another coin into the machine and twisting the knob. Out pops a capsule with a second ring, this one plain silver with a chevron design.

“I call that one,” Dan says, grabbing it from Phil. “It’s slightly less tacky.”

“Good thing I like tacky, sparkly things, then,” Phil says. He takes the fake emerald ring back from Dan and puts it onto his ring finger. “It’s gorgeous, thank you, dear.”

Dan rolls his eyes at the pet name, but he slips his ring onto his own finger. “There. Are we officially engaged now?”

“Nope,” Phil says, keeping his face serious just to be cheeky. “Not quite yet. I need an official engagement dinner. You’ve got to wine and dine me to impress me with how much you want to be with me, or I’ll think you’re not taking this seriously.”

“Fuck off, I took you all the way to Japan. Is that not enough to express my love?”

Phil can’t help it and breaks out into a giant grin. “Nope. Give me fancy food or give me nothing.”

Dan gestures to the nearby coffee stand. “I’ll buy you a frickin’ overpriced coffee, how about that?”

“Deal.”

(Dan goes all out and buys them each a matcha latte topped with little biscuits shaped like deer and hearts, and Phil thinks he’s never been more in love with a place, a person, _and_ a food all at the same time.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Final chapter goes up on Sunday :)  
> Reblog [here!](https://possumdnp.tumblr.com/post/641574715303034880/lkotryo3)
> 
> **Links to Relevant Content**  
> [Instagram stories from 17 November, minus the first three](https://youtu.be/ALMk67U8j0U) (due to Phil’s outfits and the times of day in these photos, I think this set of pictures was taken on two separate days)  
> [Instagram stories from 18 November ](https://youtu.be/cqTohLXMyqI)  
> [Instagram stories from 19 November ](https://youtu.be/Cmwx3XBzzJA)  
> [Instagram stories from 20 November ](https://youtu.be/nshVIv4F6s8)  
> [Phil’s tweet about the dog-bird gacha machine](https://twitter.com/AmazingPhil/status/1197351449509814272)


	4. Chapter 4

They take a train to Osaka the next day. This journey is shorter than their trip from Tokyo, only an hour. Phil is once again sad to leave such a beautiful city behind. They’ve had so many good adventures in the few days they’ve been in Kyoto.

Especially _one particular adventure._ Phil’s currently wearing the cheap gacha machine ring on a string around his neck so it’s under his shirt, resting right over his heart. He’s reluctant to actually wear it on his finger as it fits a bit loosely. Even though it’s cheap and tacky, he already feels attached to it and would be sad to lose it.

On a more practical note, he also doesn’t want to spend the rest of their holiday worrying about it being visible in pictures or videos, or else running into a subscriber and having them notice it. But it’s not about hiding who they are anymore. It’s not fear that has him wearing the ring on a necklace instead of his finger.

It’s about keeping their relationship private and on their own terms. About keeping this precious thing tucked close to their hearts. Literally. Phil feels a thrill of excitement every time he feels the cool metal of the ring press against his chest, just as intimate as it felt on his ring finger. God, he’s such a romantic sap.

When they arrive in southern Osaka, they make their way out of the train station, dragging their suitcases behind them. His first impression of the city is that it’s full of action and people. It’s got a much different energy to the more peaceful Kyoto. For now though, they head to their hotel, which is a short walk away.

It’s hard to fully enjoy walking along the street when he’s lugging a heavy suitcase with him, but he’s already getting a taste of the city, and he’s excited to explore later. He peers into the shop windows that they pass, seeing what’s nearby, and then he spots it: an onsen — a traditional Japanese hot spring bath. Even luckier for them, it’s just a few doors down from their hotel.

“We should try that out tonight,” he says eagerly. “We don’t have any real plans tonight, and we’ve always wanted to.”

“You know you have to be naked to go in the bath,” Dan says as they drag their suitcases a few paces farther to the front door of the hotel. He holds open the door for Phil.

He shrugs. “Yeah, I know. But you know I’ve got a nudist streak in me. It’ll probably be relaxing to lie around in a public bath with our junk out.”

Dan smirks. “Okay, bub. Sure.”

Phil might have been exaggerating _just a bit_ about how far his nudist streak runs.

As much as he really does want to partake in traditional Japanese public bath culture (it had been the one thing he regretted not doing during their first trip to Japan), it’s a little nerve-wracking to think about being naked in front of a bunch of strangers.

Nevertheless, that evening, after exploring the streets of Osaka for a while, they head back to the onsen near their hotel.

As he and Dan strip naked in the changing room and stash their clothes in lockers, Phil thinks he might be regretting this decision just a little. Or maybe he’s just feeling the side effects of growing up in a culture that deeply ingrained in him that being naked in front of others is wrong.

Whatever the case, there has always been something innately stressful about locker rooms to him. While this is definitely more upscale than his school locker room, there’s still naked men everywhere. He does his best to keep his eyes fixed on his own feet to avoid looking at anyone, terrified of accidentally making awkward eye contact.

“We have to shower next,” Dan says, and they close up their lockers and make their way to the showers. “Wait for me here if you finish first, okay?”

Phil nods and heads into one of the little shower cubicles. There’s a lot of etiquette involved in bathing, and he desperately hopes he’s not going to offend someone by doing it wrong. What he _does_ know is that you’re supposed to take a full-on shower and get properly clean before entering the baths, so that’s precisely what he’s going to do.

Once he’s soaped up and showered off his whole body, he rinses off his whole shower area and turns off the water. He towels off and steps out into the changing room. Dan’s already waiting for him outside the showers, his arms crossed over his chest, looking a little embarrassed about standing around in the nude. Sympathy rushes through Phil; he’s not the only one who’s got serious locker room anxiety.

“This is gonna be relaxing,” Phil says quietly, trying to sound more confident than he feels. “We’ve wanted to do this forever, yeah?”

Dan nods and uncrosses his arms. “Yeah. I know.”

“And if we end up hating it, we can leave. We just have to try it for a little bit.”

Dan raises an eyebrow. “That sounds like childhood wisdom you picked up from Kath.”

“I mean, she probably meant it more about me eating my broccoli or playing football with the neighbourhood kids, not feeling awkward about being naked in a public bath. But sure, if it makes you feel better.”

Dan smiles. “It does, in a weird way.”

“Let’s go, then.” He leads the way out of the changing room. There are more men out in the bath area than there were in the changing room, and once again, he’s very much tempted to cover himself with the little towel he has with him (he restrains that particular urge).

They decide to do the sauna first. It’s a square room with wooden walls and benches, and when they step inside, Phil notes how warm it is. He feels a little strange sitting down naked near strangers, but no one seems to pay him much attention. Half the people have their eyes closed anyway.

He spends a few minutes trying to avoid looking at anywhere or anyone in particular, until he realizes it’s easier to just close his eyes and let the hot, steamy air surround him. It’s lightly scented with some sort of relaxing herbs, something he vaguely recognizes but couldn’t name. Possibly eucalyptus, and something vaguely citrussy.

He breathes in deeply, feeling the warmth relax his bones. He does have to admit that the sauna feels nice. He already feels himself sweating. He normally hates feeling sweaty when he exercises, but sitting here, it actually feels good, like his pores are opening up and cleansing his body.

After a while, they start feeling a bit too warm, so they decide to leave the sauna and head outside, over to one of the bathing pools. Since the baths are filled from natural hot springs, the pools are outside, half-covered by a roof to shield from the worst of the elements. But it’s almost winter, and compared to the sauna, the air outside is chilly, making Phil shiver.

The water in the bathing pool is warm enough that it’s steaming, releasing a fine fog into the air. There’s a few men currently enjoying the water, but the bath is large enough that there’s plenty of room for the two of them.

He and Dan slip into the water, sitting next to each other. It’s comfortably warm, almost as hot as the sauna, and Phil feels himself relax almost instantly, his eyes closing in contentment. He _definitely_ understands the hype around public baths now.

While he’s still feeling a bit self-conscious — he can’t shake his prudish cultural upbringing that quickly — he has to admit that it _is_ sort of freeing to relax in the nude without it being about sex. Going into this, he thought it might be weird to be casually naked around strangers. And honestly, it still is, just a bit. But now that he’s in the water, he’s starting to understand that no one really cares. If anyone’s looking at them, it’s because they’re two giant English guys, not because they’re naked.

He imagines everyone else is just as distracted as he is by how nice and hot the water feels. It feels like an amplified version of when he takes baths at home, but for once in his life, he can submerge his entire lanky body without his knees or toes awkwardly poking out of the water. And even though the surrounding late-autumn air is chilly on his face, he feels perfectly content and warm.

Eyes closed and head empty, Phil feels more relaxed than he thinks he’s ever been in his life.

He feels like he must go into some sort of bath-induced meditative state, because before he knows it, they’ve been in the bath for half an hour and Dan’s got his hand on his shoulder. “We should get out before we cook.”

Phil opens his eyes and glances over. Dan’s hair is adorably frizzing up in the steam, and his cheeks are pink from the heat. He looks like Phil feels, the very picture of relaxation.

Phil nods and stands up, which is probably a mistake, because sitting in a hot bath for so long has left him feeling lightheaded. Dan notices and steadies him with a gentle hand on his upper arm, and they climb out of the bath together, drying off with the small towels that the bath had provided them.

Together, they head back to the changing room to finish drying themselves off and retrieve their clothes.

“I loved that,” Phil says, slipping his shirt back on. He makes sure to grab his ring-necklace from the locker too, tucking it back underneath his shirt. “I’ve never been more warm in my life.”

“I know,” Dan groans. “I feel so relaxed right now.”

“I mean, I honestly did feel kinda weird about being naked in front of a bunch of strangers, but it was less awkward than I thought it would be. I’m happy we did it.”

Dan smiles. “I’m glad we did too.” He checks their locker one last time to make sure they have everything. “Ready to head back?”

The short walk back to their hotel is chilly, and once they’re back in their room, Phil strips off his damp clothes and flops onto their bed, tucking the duvet around him like a nest. “I feel like cooked spaghetti.”

“I want to curl up like a cat and go to sleep for a whole year.” Dan yawns and joins him on the bed. “And it’s not even ten o’ clock yet. We’re getting old, mate.”

“Maybe it’ll be good to go to sleep early. We have things to see tomorrow. Cool Osaka things. We’re only here one full day, so we have to make it count.” Phil reaches over and pets at Dan’s hair.

“I can’t wait.” Dan scoots up and curls into Phil’s side, kissing his neck gently. “We should at least get under the covers first. There’s nothing sadder than falling asleep on top of the covers before ten at night.”

Phil unwraps his body from the duvet and tucks himself under the sheets. The bed is insanely comfortable, and he knows he’s going to fall asleep in the next thirty seconds. “Relax, Danny. We’re on holiday. We’re allowed to go to sleep whenever we want. Even if it’s not even ten yet.”

Dan kisses him again and nuzzles into him. “Love you.”

—

He sleeps soundly the entire night, waking up without an alarm to the sounds of traffic and birds outside. They must really be getting enough sleep on this trip, because it’s seven thirty in the morning and Phil feels fully awake.

He looks over. The bath must have really helped Dan relax, because for once, he’s still sound asleep next to Phil. His bare shoulder is peeking out from under the sheets, and Phil is far too tempted by the sight. He rolls over, kissing the exposed shoulder blade, Dan’s skin warm under his lips.

“Hmmmm.” Dan stirs, curling up under the blankets. “You’re awake.”

“You’re not,” Phil says. “You’re cute this morning. Your hair is so curly from the baths.” He runs his fingers through Dan’s hair, tracing along all of the little curls.

“I’m cute every morning,” Dan grumbles.

“I beg to differ. Talking to you at six in the morning is a horrible experience.”

Dan huffs an amused sound and rolls over, Phil’s view of his bare shoulder replaced by the equally good sight of Dan’s right nipple. “Speak for yourself. You’re literally _such_ a demanding monster without coffee, no matter what time it is.”

Phil grins and presses himself closer to Dan. “I dunno. Sometimes you _like_ it when I’m demanding.”

Dan kisses him. “And I hate that I do.”

Despite waking up early for once, it takes them a while to finally get themselves out of their hotel room. They scrounge up some coffee and breakfast from a nearby Starbucks (Phil wishes he wasn’t such a sucker for trying country-specific drinks), and head off to go explore Osaka.

For being a smaller city than Tokyo, Phil’s surprised at how busy it seems. It’s not even ten in the morning yet, but there’s people bustling all around them, lights and cars and shops everywhere. It’s a little overwhelming to his senses.

It probably doesn’t help that they’ve spent the past few days soaking up Japan’s more natural areas, talking more to deer and monkeys than to other people. Returning to the noise of the big city is a bit of a shock, even for Londoners like them.

Still, they’re eager to spend as much time as possible exploring. They’re staying near Minami, Osaka’s main entertainment and shopping district, and they don’t have anything planned today except to roam the city and see what interesting sights they can find.

They’re walking along a road when they reach a busy strip, two bright rows of shops and signs looming around them. A cool, clear river runs straight in between, reflecting the buildings on either side. They have to walk over a footbridge to get over the canal, and Phil is enchanted.

“This is so cool,” Phil says. “I wish we had rivers and bridges like this back in London.”

“We have the Thames,” Dan says.

“The Thames smells weird and is a lot bigger than this, though. This is, like, proper picturesque, like a Venice canal.”

“Oh look, there’s tourist boats,” Dan says, pointing a little way down the river.

Phil leans on the railing, watching the boat slowly make its way toward them, the passengers seated inside waving at the people on the bridge as they float under them.

“I know it’s kinda touristy, but we should go on one,” Phil says, waving back. “It looks really nice.”

“Good thing we’re tourists, then,” Dan says, bumping Phil’s shoulder. “Gives us an excuse to do tacky, touristy things. How about tonight? I bet all of this neon looks really cool after dark.”

Phil nods. “Tonight, then. Plus, it’ll give us a chance to sit down and relax after walking around all day.”

They cross over the bridge and start wandering. Dotonbori Street, the road parallel to the canal, is an explosion of color and life: people everywhere, flashing signs displaying a dizzying array of products, candy-striped awnings in a rainbow of colours cover shops, some marquees flashing Japanese characters at them, while others display American brands that they have back home.

Then there’s the restaurants. There’s a takoyaki shop with a giant octopus statue over the door, holding takoyaki balls in each of its tentacles, and a seafood restaurant with an enormous red crab climbing up the front. There’s even a costumed crab character bouncing around nearby, taking pictures with tourists.

“This street feels like Japanese New York,” Dan says, staring up at all of the buildings around them. “It’s incredible.”

They walk around the area for a while, window-shopping and people-watching, before eventually wandering north, away from the busyness and colour of Dotonbori Street.

First, they run across this cool section of the city with dozens of anime shops and pop culture-focused stores. It reminds him a little of Tokyo’s Akihabara, which they’d visited with Duncan and Mimei a week ago. They spend far too long exploring the various shops, looking at all of the memorabilia.

Phil honestly doesn’t watch much anime these days. It’s not exactly that he’s lost interest in it, but his life has grown incredibly busy, and he’s just kinda drifted away from it with time. It’s not necessarily for the better; he’s sadly turned to trashy reality television to fill his free time instead of anime. It’s a habit that Dan’s constantly making fun of him for (although truth be told, Dan is secretly just as hooked on those trashy shows as Phil is).

But seeing figurines and posters from his old favourite anime shows brings back memories and makes him think that he should really revisit some of the shows he once loved, and perhaps discover new ones. They were genuinely good, funny, and emotional shows, some of the best television he’s ever watched.

They eventually wander a few blocks over and find themselves in a very fancy indoor shopping centre, filled with expensive clothes, accessories, and perfume bottles that all cost an _ungodly_ amount of money. Even though the price tags make Phil feel faint, it’s still fun to look around at all of the fancy, sparkly things.

“I feel like I’m overly conscious of my limbs,” Phil whispers to Dan as they window-shop. “What if I trip and accidentally break something in here and they make me pay a million yen?”

“I fully trust in your walking abilities, and your ability not to accidentally yeet yourself into a shopping center display,” Dan says (which is a sweet sentiment, and one he doesn’t look a hundred percent confident about. Phil doesn’t blame him).

They manage to make it through the very fancy shopping centre without damaging anything, and eventually, they wander into an artsy part of the city, filled with cool sculptures and art galleries. They go into some of the galleries to check out the local artists’ work, and Phil revels in how nice it is to retreat to the quiet of an artistic space. He’s a video maker, not a visual artist, but being in a creative space will always feel familiar and welcome to him.

“That’s an awesome building,” Dan says as they’re walking, pointing across the street.

Phil looks over. Indeed, the building is cool. It has a metal sculpture built into it that reminds him of some sort of artsy, skeletal fish fossil. Intrigued, he reads off the sign in front of the building. “The Kamigata Ukiyoe Museum. It says it’s a woodblock art museum.”

“That sounds cool,” Dan says. “Want to go check it out?”

Phil nods, and they head across the street and inside the building. It’s a small gallery, minimal but cozy, and it’s clear that the curators care a lot about the art on display.

Phil doesn’t know much about woodblocks or the printing process; he likes looking at art and can decide if he finds something pleasing to his eye or not, but that’s as far as his artistic side goes.

So he likes that the museum includes a short documentary on one of the upper floors, showing just how one of these pieces of art is made. It makes him really appreciate the process and all of the work that goes into making the blocks and pressing colour onto the paper to make the final piece of art. It makes him see all of the prints in a different light.

Even without the documentary though, his untrained eye can tell that the art here is wonderful. Some of the prints date back to the 17th century, though there’s a lot of modern pieces too.

Most of the pieces on the first floor feature kabuki actors, men with long hair dancing in flowing floral kimonos.

“Apparently this used to be used to advertise a kabuki show way back in the 1800s,” Dan says, reading one of the little signs. “It was all-male actors, so they had to play female roles too.”

“Kinda like Shakespeare’s plays?”

“Yeah.” Dan steps back and stares at the fierce, androgenous figure in the art, taking in all of the dramatic detail. “This guy’s kimono is fantastic. I like the flowers.”

Phil smiles. “I like it too.”

They look through all of the art in the museum, the kabuki advertisements, the landscapes of forests and mountains, the portraits of Japanese life, and the display cases of centuries-old woodblock-making tools.

Once they’ve looked through the whole museum, they browse through the gift shop. To Phil’s delight, they’re selling some original prints made by local artists. They’re all so detailed and gorgeous.

“One of these would be a _perfect_ gift for Martyn and Cornelia,” he says. “We still haven’t gotten them anything yet. And you know Mar loves to decorate their house with fancy art.”

Dan grins. “Hell yeah. This really is the perfect gift for them.”

They browse through the prints available, and then Phil spots it, a large print of an orange and white koi fish in a pond. He points it out. “D’you reckon that one’s too on the nose? _‘Thanks for watching our fish so here’s a fish woodblock print’?”_

Dan laughs. “I mean yeah, probably, but I think they’d find that funny. Plus, I feel like they’d like that we’re supporting local artists.”

“Let’s go with it, then.”

The gift store attendant rolls it up for them, and Dan stashes it in their backpack.

“Mission accomplished,” Phil says as they exit the museum. “We’ve visited a cool art gallery _and_ we’ve gotten the last of our family’s Christmas gifts, all in one stop.”

“We’re on top of things,” Dan says. “I just wish we were here for longer. They had a sign in there that said they have classes here. We could’ve learned how to make our own woodblock prints.”

“Awww, you mean we could’ve given my brother an original Phil woodblock print?

“He really missed out,” Dan says, laughing. “I’m sure it would have been just as beautiful as this koi print.”

“Well, it gives us a reason to come back for another visit to Osaka, doesn’t it? Those printmaking classes?”

Dan smiles. “Yeah. I guess it does.”

They wander around the city for the rest of the afternoon until it grows dark out, at which point they realize that they’ve become hopelessly lost. They use the GPS on Dan’s phone to navigate back to Dotonbori Street, where they’d started their day.

By the time they find their way back, the sky is dark and all of the neon lights and signs are turned on. Even the giant crab on the side of that seafood restaurant is glowing bright red. The street looks totally different than it did this morning, and Phil can’t help but stop on the pavement and stare up, taking it all in.

“I think I like it even better at night,” he says. “It’s like a magical electric city.”

“It really is.”

Phil’s stomach grumbles. “You know what would make it even more magical? Something to eat. I’m starving.”

“You in the mood for dessert?” Dan says. “I may have already found a place. I think you’ll like it.”

“Surprise dessert?” Phil says eagerly. “Obviously.”

Dan points to a shop a little bit ahead. “Pablo. It’s a really well-known cheesecake place here. It’s supposed to be amazing.”

“Cheesecake?” Phil says, feeling a little hesitant. It’s just, sometimes cheesecake tastes... well, a little too much like cheese for him. “I mean, we can try it.”

“They have other desserts too,” Dan says kindly. “Ice cream and non-cheesecake tarts. I checked the menu to be sure you’d like it. I just thought it’d be fun to try.”

Phil smiles. Of course Dan would remember his weird thing about cheese also applies to cream cheese. “I’d love to try it.”

Pablo is so popular that there’s a line waiting to get in. But it gives them plenty of time to scrutinize the menu before they order. While Dan decides to go with a plain “just-baked cheesecake” (which is apparently Pablo’s specialty), Phil orders a slice of the most chocolatey-sounding cheesecake on the menu, hoping it’ll disguise the taste of cream cheese a little.

“This place is cute,” Phil says once they sit down, waiting for their desserts to be brought to them. “Did you find this in the guidebook?”

“Yup,” Dan says. “I know we said we were just gonna play it by ear today and do whatever we felt like without planning anything, but I couldn’t pass up a good dessert opportunity.”

“I didn’t even know that cheesecake places existed outside of those Cheesecake Factory restaurants in America.”

“What the fuck is a Cheesecake Factory?” Dan says, sounding bemused.

“Oh my god. My family’s gone there a few times on our Florida trips. They’re these restaurants with novel-length menus and _absolutely massive_ portions. And they have like fifty different kinds of cheesecake for dessert. It’s just about the most American restaurant I’ve ever been to. Just for you, I’ll make my parents take us to one the next time we all go on holiday to Florida together.”

Dan smirks. “I look forward to the experience. Although I think this place seems more, uh, refined than that.”

“God, yes. For the record, this is nothing like The Cheesecake Factory. It’s way better.” He gazes around. Pablo is cafe-sized, with honey-coloured wooden tables. It’s buzzing with activity, tourists and locals alike sitting and enjoying their desserts. From what Phil can see, the food looks really good. His stomach grumbles.

When their desserts arrive some time later, Phil gets served a delicate slice, while Dan gets a round cheesecake with the Pablo logo dusted with cocoa powder in the center.

“You hungry?” Phil says, snickering as Dan gapes at his plate. His dessert is probably twice as big as Phil’s.

“I didn’t know it would be a _whole-ass cheesecake,”_ Dan says. “I thought it would be a slice like yours.”

Phil shrugs and hungrily digs into his own slice. To his delight, it’s delicious and doesn’t taste of cheese in the slightest. The chocolate is warm and rich and melts in his mouth. He’s never had anything like it before.

Dan seems equally as entranced with his cheesecake. He’s closed his eyes upon taking his first bite, dramatically savouring it.

“Is yours good?” Phil asks, and Dan nods, his eyes still half-closed.

“It’s so amazing. The best cheesecake I’ve ever eaten, I reckon. You can try some.” Dan pushes his plate towards him. “I dunno if you’ll like it, though.”

Phil takes a small forkful of the plain cheesecake. It definitely tastes cheesier and tangier than his own chocolatey slice. Not _horrible_ by any means, but definitely not to his own personal palette. He shrugs. “Sorry, you’re on your own to finish it, mate. It’s okay, but it’s not really my favourite.”

“I hate to say it, but that won’t be a problem.”

And to Phil’s amusement, he eats every last bite.

Once they’re full of dessert, they head outside, back to the bridge that they’d stood on earlier today. The neon lights reflect off the water, turning the river awash with vibrant patterns and colours.

“It almost looks like that one room in the Digital Art Museum, the one with all that mist,” Phil says, staring out at the water.

“It does,” Dan says, taking a picture. “It looks like a watercolour painting.”

“It makes me want to take up painting as a hobby,” Phil says. “This whole trip does.”

“New year’s resolution?” Dan says. “You could always ask your dad. I’m sure he’d give you some painting advice.”

“I mean, I think I’m definitely gonna be too busy next year to take up a whole new artistic hobby. But maybe at some point, I will.” He sighs. “Everything here’s just so _beautiful._ I feel like I need to express it somehow.”

“I know exactly what you mean.” They gaze out over the canal, watching the water ripple. There’s still a loud crowd of people walking around them, but in that moment, it feels like they’re in their own little perfect world.

A tourist boat makes its way down the canal, reminding Phil of their conversation from earlier today. He looks over at Dan. “So are we going on that boat ride or what?”

They make their way to the little dock where the touristy river boats set off from and pay their fare. A woman loads them onto a waiting boat, and they find some seats at the back. The seats are hard, cold plastic, but feels so nice to sit down after a day spent on their feet.

“I really love tonight,” Phil says drowsily as the boat begins its way down the canal. The view from the boat isn’t that much different than it was on the street, but it is a fun experience to cut through the water, sending the neon reflections swirling. He stares up at the neon billboard of the running man. “It feels magical, doesn’t it? All of this colour and excitement?”

Dan rests one hand on Phil’s knee. “I think it feels like being alive.”

—

“I’m gonna cosplay today,” Dan calls from the main room of their hotel room the next morning.

Phil pokes his head around the corner of the bathroom, where he’s trying to arrange his quiff to look halfway decent. “What? How are you possibly cosplaying? You brought, like, four shirts with you. And they’re all black and white.”

“Excuse you, I brought a shirt for every single day of this trip. And I’m dressing up as my Pokémon Sword character, see?” Dan’s holding out his white striped shirt, and Phil laughs. They’ve shown each other their games enough that he knows exactly what Dan’s talking about.

“That’s like the easiest cosplay ever. That looks exactly like the shirt in the game.”

“I mean, it’s why I chose it for my character, isn’t it?” Dan says, pulling the shirt over his head.

“But it’s kinda the wrong cosplay for today. We’re going to a Final Fantasy Café, not a Pokémon one.”

Dan raises an eyebrow. “Well, it was kinda hard to fit my replica of Cloud’s strappy armour and giant-ass sword into my suitcase, sorry.”

Phil laughs, imagining them traveling through Japan with a sword as tall as they are. “Probably a good choice leaving that at home.”

They’ve only been here for two days, so their belongings haven’t managed to get too scattered. They pack up with ease and head down to the front lobby to check out.

It’s 8:30 in the morning when they head out the front doors, the air outside brisk and smelling of petrol and the coming winter. Commuters are making their way to work, and children in their neatly pressed uniforms are walking to school.

There’s a fair amount of traffic, and the train station isn’t far away, so they decide to walk.

“It’s cold out today,” Dan says. Phil can see his breath fog up as he speaks.

“It’s almost December,” Phil says, and smiles. “Almost Christmas! I hope it snows this year.”

Dan snorts. “You’re spending Christmas on the Isle of Man. You’re probably gonna get rain.”

Phil shrugs. “I can hope.” He thinks about getting to see his family again, giving them their gifts from Japan and sharing stories about their travels. One particular story, them talking by a golden temple on a lake. His stomach flips in excitement just thinking about it. “Hey, Dan?”

“Hmmm?”

They come to stop at a traffic light. “Are we gonna tell my parents we’re, you know, gonna get married after we move?”

Dan smiles softly. “I don’t see why we shouldn’t. I know we’re not making a big deal out of it, but your mum will be really pleased, I bet.”

“My dad too,” Phil says fondly. “Little known fact, but my dad cries at every wedding he goes to. He’s a big old softie. Like, he even cried at my second cousin Rebecca’s wedding, and he’d only ever met her twice. He’ll probably be weeping buckets at his own son’s wedding.”

“That’s incredibly sweet.”

The traffic light turns green, and they start making their way across the road. The train station is within sight, just a few blocks away.

“Not to be sappy, but I’m glad we’re doing this,” Phil says. “It’ll give us something to look forward to, you know? Something to celebrate.”

“If the world needs anything, it’s more celebration and love,” Dan agrees.

Taking the train back to Tokyo feels a little bittersweet. While Phil’s greatly looking forward to their afternoon visit to the Final Fantasy Eorzea Café, the fact still remains that it’s their last full day in Japan. Their last train ride back to the big city. It makes him really wish that they had more time. This perfect holiday is slipping right through his fingers.

“You okay?” Dan says. “You’re staring out that window like you’re in a sad music video or something.”

Phil switches his gaze from the scenery passing by to Dan’s face. “I’m a little sad, I suppose.”

“Want to talk about it?”

“Yes, mister therapist.” It’s a running joke between them that Dan always wants to talk about his feelings, and has ever since he started therapy. Phil sometimes struggles with sharing his more negative feelings, even to Dan. “I just don’t want to leave.”

“Me neither,” Dan says. “We should’ve stayed for longer.”

Phil sighs. “But then it’s like, we booked a two-week trip for a reason. We’ve got tickets for that show the day after we get back to London, and that meeting with the contractor, and our fish to check in on and feed…”

Dan lays a hand on Phil’s arm. “We said we weren’t gonna think about real life stuff.”

Phil shrugs. “I know, but honestly, I’m still looking forward to that stuff. And I like our lives in England, you know I do. I just like it _here,_ too. I love being on holiday.”

“Me too.” Dan looks out the window. They’re passing by a little grove of trees whose leaves are mostly fallen and brown by now, their autumn vibrancy lost. “Honestly, I’m a little sad too. We’ve had a lot of fun on this trip, haven’t we?”

“So much fun. I feel so relaxed.” Phil stretches out his slightly-cramped legs. “I think whenever I go on holiday, I realize how much tension and anxiety I’m carrying in my body. It’s like it all melts away just by doing new things.”

“That bath probably helped.”

Phil closes his eyes. _“The legendary bath._ We’d better decide on a damn good bathtub for our new house, Danny, ‘cause nothing’s gonna compete with that.”

Dan laughs. “Sure. When they find a natural hot spring under London, you’ll be the first to know.”

“And I want a sauna too.”

“Sure. We’ll just add that into the vast amounts of space we have left on our property.”

Phil grins. “I knew you’d understand.”

—

If there’s one thing they really wanted to do during their time in Japan, it was go to the Final Fantasy Eorzea Café. They’re both huge fans of the series; it was one of the first things they bonded over on Skype, actually. Phil fondly remembers them playing VII together on one of Dan’s first visits to the Lester family home back in 2009.

So when they found out that a Final Fantasy-themed café was actually a thing, they more or less planned their trip around going there. They’d had to make reservations for a certain day and time, which is why they’d ended up heading back to Tokyo a whole day early.

It was _definitely_ worth the wait, Phil thinks as he enters the little café. It’s decorated to match Carline Canopy from Final Fantasy XIV, all dark wood and round tables. There’s weapons, banners, and maps decorating the walls, gorgeous faux stained glass windows, and cute little moogle statues peering out of the foliage. There’s even music from the games playing, making the café feel like they’ve been transported into another world entirely.

Phil is _in love._

They give their name to the woman at the front of the café, and she leads them over to a table near the back. Once they’re seated, they spend a good ten minutes pouring over the menu, debating what to order. When they go out to restaurants, they usually order several different plates and drinks so they can sample as much of the menu as they can. But it’s hard when there’s dozens of themed options and they want to try _everything._

They end up settling on several desserts and a drink each: one “Drink of Shiva,” because Phil likes his drinks electric blue and fruity-tasting, and one “Drink of the Ultimate Weapon,” because Dan thought it sounded too epic to not order.

“I think I’ve died and gone to heaven,” Phil says, staring around them. “This is the actual best place we’ve ever been to.”

“It really is. I wish London would get on this level and do full-on themed cafés like this.”

“I mean, we did go to that cat café, and that one bar that was themed like Alice in Wonderland and had those cool topsy-turvy glasses.”

“But like —” and here, Dan gestures wordlessly around them, and Phil totally gets it. This place is _magical._ He wants to live here and pretend that he’s actually an adventurer who has just finished a quest and is drinking potions with his favourite questing companion.

He smiles. “I think young Phil would actually cry of happiness if he could see this place.”

“Young Dan would too. I mean, do you know how much Final Fantasy I’ve played in my life?”

“Millions of hours, probably.”

Their drinks and food get delivered to their table just then, Phil’s cocktail as unnaturally blue as the menu promised, and Dan’s a subtler white colour, but it’s no less tasty-looking. They’ve ordered several desserts too, including a ‘Demon Wall Honey Toast,’ just because they both liked the name.

Everything is suitably delicious, and Phil happily slurps at his drink, enjoying the theming of the café around them. The Shadowbringer’s Town theme from Final Fantasy XIV is currently playing, the gentle guitar and violins familiar and soothing.

“Remember when XV came out and we stayed up all night playing it together?” he asks.

“Of course I remember,” Dan says, “and then you fell asleep on the sofa, and then I realized that we were officially old and couldn’t stay up past three in the morning anymore.”

“I mean, we were right in between legs of our TATINOF tour,” Phil says. “You can’t really blame me for being exhausted.”

Dan grins. “Nah, you’re just old.”

“Rude.”

“I will admit, traveling for fun like this is a lot less stressful than touring a whole-ass stage show. I don’t miss being stressed about all of those TATINOF props.”

“Yeah, for sure.” He suddenly feels his heart turn heavy, and he stares down into the dregs of his drink. “I kinda feel just like I did on the last day of tour, you know? Happy to be going home and checking in on our flat, but also really sad it’s all gonna be over tomorrow. This whole big, crazy adventure that we’ve spent so long planning.”

Dan rests his foot right alongside Phil’s under the table. “It’s okay to feel that way, though. Just means you had a good time.”

Phil nods. “I know. I just want more Japan. More traveling and doing fun things and not being stressed out about real life.”

“Maybe next time, we’ll go on holiday for more than two weeks. A proper two-month long holiday, like we always wanted to take when we were younger.”

Phil smiles. “That sounds fun, but could we _actually_ force ourselves to take a break from work for that long?”

“We totally could,” Dan says. “I mean, it’d be hard, and maybe we’d have to open up our computers a couple times a week to check in on work stuff, but I totally think we could do it.”

“All right, then where would you want to go on this fabulous holiday? Let’s plan it out to distract ourselves from the sadness of this holiday ending.”

Dan takes the last bite of the honey toast and considers. “Hmmm. I think I’d like to go to Thailand, or somewhere else in southeast Asia. I’ve always wanted to visit.”

“Thailand would be _so cool,”_ Phil says. “Martyn liked it a lot when he and Cornelia went a few years back.”

“My dumb brother also went, remember?” Dan says. “He did that backpacking trip with his school mates and wouldn’t stop talking about it last Christmas.”

“Well, maybe we’ll just stick to getting travel tips from Mar and Cornelia, then,” Phil says, grinning. He likes Dan’s brother well enough, but he shares Dan’s opinion that he can be a bit overbearing at times.

Dan shrugs. “Eh. I can talk to him. I feel like we’re getting along a bit better now. Ever since we went to France together and I forced him to take all those pictures of me.”

“Those ones with your _dodgy_ moustache?” Phil says, snorting into his drink. He's never gonna let Dan live that one down.

“It wasn’t _dodgy!_ It was _fancy_ and inspired by rural French aesthetic. It’s not my fault I have the facial hair of a pubescent boy.”

Phil laughs. “I still love the mental image of you going on a family holiday and forcing your pretentious photographer brother to take all those stupid pictures of you.”

Dan grins. “Oh, he definitely hated it. But I think he didn’t want to complain too much, because it was the first time he’d seen me since I’d come out to him. I think he was trying to be nice to me or some shit.” He shrugs. “I think it helped us bond, in some weird way.” He pokes his fork in Phil’s direction. “Enough about my brother. Where would _you_ like to go on our future over-the-top two-month holiday?”

Phil considers for a few moments. “I’d think I’d like to go back to New Zealand. I know you’ve already been there with your family, but I’d love to see more than just Auckland and Hobbiton.”

Dan smiles. “The South Island is amazing. You’d love it. There’s so much cool wildlife, birds and seals and penguins. And we could go on so many hikes and get fit. We’d be proper outdoorsy by the end of it.”

“We’ve spent a ton of time outside on this trip, Danny. Remember that mountain we accidentally climbed? We’re definitely proper outdoorsy by now.”

“Nah, I’m talking Instagram fitness-gay level of outdoorsiness, Phil. Able to bench press a moose and frickin’... I dunno, chop down trees with one swing of an axe.”

Phil raises an eyebrow. “All from a bit of hiking in New Zealand? Wow. Sign me up.”

Dan laughs. “You’re right. Maybe that’s a bit of a stretch.”

“Good. I don’t really want to get hench enough to bench press a moose anyway. I mean, being _that_ fit is overrated, don’t you think?”

Dan smiles. “You know I’d love you no matter if you were a hench bodybuilder or if you were a nerd with noodle arms.”

“You’re sweet,” Phil says. “And I’m glad you like my noodle arms, because I really hate working out and lifting weights. And I really don’t want to give up the honey toast to become a super buff Instagram fitness-gay. Life’s not worth living if I can’t eat dessert.”

Dan presses their feet together under the table. “That honey toast was really good. I kinda want another.”

Phil sips the last of his Drink of Shiva. “Want to order another round, then?”

Dan grins. “Of course. We’ve got to make the best of our last day here, haven’t we?”

—

They get back to their hotel in the early evening to relax for a bit, fully intending on going out again. But then it starts raining hard, beating a steady rhythm on their window.

“We should probably go out and enjoy that nice restaurant, like we planned,” Phil says glumly, staring out across the city. “I mean, we’re Londoners. We should be used to the rain by now, right?”

“Bitch, please. I’m not going out in that,” Dan says.

Phil looks back to where Dan is flopped on the bed, his feet up towards the pillows, his head dangling off the end of the bed. “You’re just saying that ‘cause you accidentally forgot your raincoat at home, aren’t you?”

“I mean, I don’t really want to get soaked. But we can go out if you want to. I know you wanted to try that restaurant.”

Phil shakes his head. “It’s just a restaurant. We could still go there tomorrow before our flight.”

Dan sits up to face Phil. “You know what we should do? Get some really good takeaway and eat it in our hotel room. Then we wouldn’t have to go out, and we could still eat good Japanese food.”

“Deal.”

They manage to find a restaurant they both agree on and place an order online, then rock-paper-scissors to decide who’s going to meet the delivery person downstairs. Phil wins, sending a grumbling Dan downstairs. While he’s gone, Phil strips and changes into his pyjamas.

He feels just a little bit guilty about not going out on their last night in Japan. At the same time, they’ve been out all day, and holidays are a time to relax and decompress. They don’t need to be running 24/7 to make it a good trip. Besides, they have a fancy hotel, and Phil fully intends on making good use of it.

He finds the remote and turns on the television, flipping around until he comes to some bizarre Japanese game show. He doesn’t understand what’s happening one bit, but that’s the fun of these shows, he’s discovered. He and Dan have enjoyed watching them and trying to discern what’s going on.

There’s a knock on the door, and Phil springs up to answer it. Dan comes in, carrying a bag of takeaway.

“This smells so good. I almost started eating it in the elevator.” He sets it on the table, and they start opening things up. They’ve ordered some Japanese curry, Dan’s with tofu and Phil’s with chicken. It’s delicious and filling, and their adventures around the city today have left them hungry enough to eat every bite.

When they’re done, they lay together on the bed, watching tv. The show has changed, and now, it seems to be some sort of quiz show.

“What do you reckon they have to do on this show?” Phil asks. On the screen, people are answering questions and acting dramatic when they get an answer right or wrong.

“It looks almost like _Family Fortunes,”_ Dan says. “Do they have that in Japan?”

“No idea.” Phil stretches out his legs, laying one across Dan’s so that he’s half-spooning him, his dick right up against Dan’s hip. He knows he’s not being subtle, but hell, it’s their last night on holiday, there’s a downpour outside, and they’re not leaving their hotel room for the rest of the night. There’s no better time to feel horny, in his opinion.

“Is this high-quality game show making you feel a certain way?” Dan says, reaching back and patting at Phil’s bum.

In response, Phil fumbles for the remote and flips the television off. “Shut up. For the record, it’s not. _You_ are, though.”

Dan turns on the bed so that they’re lying on their sides, face to face. His hand slides up and down Phil’s hip until his fingers dip under Phil’s pyjama bottoms. “Hmmm. Seems that you’re not wearing any pants.”

“Didn’t feel like it,” Phil grunts, now distracted by the feeling of Dan’s hand rubbing over his ass. “Wanted to feel free on our last night of our holiday. Before we have to return to the boringness of work and pants.”

Dan snorts. “Oh my god. You’re such a strange person.” Apparently being strange isn’t a deterrent though, because he eagerly pushes Phil back into the pillows and kisses him.

They make out for a long while, so long that Phil loses track of time. It feels like they’ve been kissing and rubbing together fully clothed for a good half-hour before Dan pulls back, his pupils blown wide.

“I wanna take this slow,” he says. “Like we never get to do at home because we’re always so fucking busy with life. I want it to be so good that we’re both shaking at the end with how badly we need to come. I want it to be the best fuck we’ve had this year.”

Phil shivers in anticipation and whispers, “That sounds like a lot to live up to. Remember how good my birthday was?”

“It’ll be even _better_ than that.”

And with that promise lingering, they start to undress each other slowly, each article of clothing pulled off lovingly, every inch of skin kissed tenderly. Dan spends a good five minutes teasing each of Phil’s nipples with his mouth, tracing them with his tongue and nipping lightly at them with his teeth.

By the time he kisses down to his belly button and the waistband of his pyjama bottoms, Phil is already shaking with need. He’s not quite sure how they’re going to make tonight last if he’s already completely hard and leaking. But he’s going to try his very best.

At this point, he’s fully expecting Dan to remove his pyjamas and get on with it, but no, Dan really is determined to take it as slow as possible. He continues his journey down Phil’s body, kissing his way along his clothed cock, rubbing his hand over his balls and down his thighs.

“Dan,” Phil says, tugging lightly at Dan’s hair. He’s absolutely no good at being patient or waiting for good things to come. He feels like he’s burning up with need, and he wants gratification _now._

Dan laughs, presses one last kiss to Phil’s cockhead through his pyjamas, before tugging them down and tossing them to the floor. “You’re really eager for it, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, just a bit.” Phil paws at Dan’s shirt, the last item of clothing between them. “Off.”

“What about taking our time?”

“You’re being cheeky,” Phil whines. “And clothes are stupid. And illegal. Naked Dans only tonight.”

Dan gracelessly tugs his shirt over his head, Phil’s eyes roaming over his bare chest and arms as they stretch and flex. Once the shirt is on the floor, Phil practically tackles him down onto the bed, slinging a leg over him and hovering over his chest.

“What d’you want?” Phil asks. “I’m good with anything, as long as I’m touching you.”

“Can I fuck you?” Dan asks, his hands stroking up and down Phil’s bare sides and coming to rest on his ass. “I literally don’t remember the last time we did it like that.”

The words go right to Phil’s cock. “Wasn’t it all the way back on that night when we went to the cinema and both got a little tipsy, and you kept making eyes at me the whole Uber ride home?”

“Nah, can’t have been that far back, can it have? That was all the way at the beginning of September. We’re not _that_ old and boring, right?”

Phil laughs. “We’re not old or boring. We’re halfway around the world from our home. We just spent two weeks going to cool places and ordering food we could barely pronounce. That’s pure youthful adventure right there. Now get on with it. Fuck me.” He rubs his ass on Dan’s bare cock for emphasis.

Dan pulls him down and kisses him hard. “You’ve gotta kiss me first. Make it last, remember?”

Phil is an impatient little fucker, they both know this. It’s hard for him to slow down, especially when he’s kissing and touching every part of his favourite person’s body. But these past two weeks of living the slow holiday life has shifted something in him, just a little.

It seems easier than usual to take it at a glacial pace, to enjoy kissing all the moles and scars on Dan’s body without rushing onto the next step.

He catalogues every little sound that Dan makes, the little sighs, the happy grunts, the almost-pained groans when he’s sucking on his clavicle, the whispered curses when his hand ghosts over his nipples. They’ll be stored in his brain under _‘what Dan sounded like on our last night in Japan,’_ to be pulled out on a rainy day when they’re stressed and sick of each other.

“Can we—” Dan says, and he slips his thumb in between Phil’s cheeks to rub at his hole.

Phil laughs. “I thought I was the impatient one.”

“Yeah, well,” Dan says. “I want to be in you, like, yesterday.”

Phil shivers in anticipation, despite himself. “Shove over, then, and let me lay down so you can finger me properly.”

Dan kisses him once more before reaching over to their nightstand to grab the lube. Phil fully expects him to go straight for his ass again — hell, that’s what Phil wants. But to his surprise, Dan wraps his lubed up hand around his dick and starts wanking him, slow and steady.

“Feels good,” Phil says, pressing into his touch. It feels amazing to be touched at last, _especially_ when Dan does that _thing_ with his wrist, the thing that never fails to make Phil squirm in pleasure. But it’s pushing him far too close, and he puts a hand on Dan’s shoulder to halt him. “Oh god. I really hate to stop you, but I am not gonna last long if you keep doing that.”

Dan laughs and removes his hand, trailing it slowly down over his balls to his hole. “As you wish.”

Dan kisses him through the preparation, and honestly, Phil could _so very easily_ come from this if he let himself. Hell, he _has_ come from this many times before, when they’re too lazy or tired to have a full-on fuck. But tonight, Dan pulls his fingers out before Phil gets to that point and pats at his hip.

“Up. Get on top of me.”

“You want me to do the work now?”

Dan settles back against the stack of pillows on their bed, bracing himself on his elbows. “Hell yeah. You said I could choose what I wanted, and I really want to watch you ride me.”

Phil climbs on top of him, legs on either side of Dan’s hips, and sinks down onto him, groaning a little as Dan slowly enters him. The stretch is a bit much, as it usually is, but Phil is too turned on to really care about the slight discomfort. If anything, the ache adds to how hot he’s finding tonight.

“Feel good?” Dan whispers.

“Feels perfect.” Phil bottoms out and grinds his ass down against Dan’s cock, right before lifting himself up again, making Dan groan deeply. When he slams his hips back down, Dan’s cock hits just the right spot inside of him, making him see _stars._

“I’m not gonna last long,” he pants. Dan’s only been inside him for a minute, and he’s already _trembling_ from the effort of not coming. Maybe it really _has_ been too long since they last did this.

“Good, ‘cause neither will I.” Dan shifts, his hips bucking up to meet Phil’s. “D’you think you can come without me touching you?”

“We can try.” Phil braces himself against Dan’s shoulders and then sits up and starts really going for it, riding Dan for all he’s worth. Dan’s head falls back against the pillows, his eyes closing, and he looks like he’s loving it.

Phil is getting close, so close that he really thinks he might actually come without being touched. And then Dan shifts beneath him, his brow furrowed, looking a bit regretful.

“I’m sorry, my leg is cramping up a little. Feels kinda weird. Can we—”

“Sure,” Phil says quickly, pulling off of Dan and rolling over, settling himself back on the bed. He stuffs one of the pillows under his hips so that his ass is propped up, allowing Dan to easily slip back in. Phil groans, readjusting so that his legs are comfortably splayed apart.

Being on top of Dan might have made for a slightly better angle, but seeing Dan’s arms flex as they hold him up, feeling how strong Dan is when he pushes inside again and again, has always been a huge turn-on for Phil. He absolutely loves fucking face-to-face like this.

It more than makes up for the change in sensation, and in a stupidly short time, Phil’s once again panting and moaning and sweating beneath Dan, on the verge of orgasm. “Touch me,” he gasps, absolutely not caring anymore about making it last. He paws at Dan’s wrist, shoving his hand down to his cock. “Fucking fuck. Just—”

When Dan reaches down and strokes Phil just a few times, he fucking _explodes._ His vision goes fuzzy, and he thinks that he’s probably died from pleasure, just from Dan’s touch. It was an excellent way to go, at least.

When his vision clears, he sees that Dan’s pulled out of him and is jerking off with purpose, obviously not caring about staving off his own orgasm now that Phil’s come. His breath has gone quick with pleasure, and he looks like a work of art. Phil watches hazily as Dan’s cock slips through his grip again and again, watches as his hips stutter to a halt as he comes all over Phil’s chest, adding to the mess in between them.

“That’s so hot,” Phil says stupidly, staring down at his chest, his brain foggy with hormones. Dan snorts with laughter.

“Yeah, it is.” He presses a lingering kiss to his mouth and lets his body drop to the bed beside Phil. “I love you so much.”

Phil looks over at him sleepily. “You know, if you _really_ love me, you could get a washcloth and clean me up. No matter how hot it is when you come all over me, it’s gonna feel really gross in a few minutes.”

Dan rolls his eyes. “You’re very needy. Especially when we fuck.” Nevertheless, he gets up and fetches a warm washcloth to clean them both up.

“That was amazing,” Phil says, when they’re tucked comfortably under the covers, clean and sated. “If we’re talking about ‘best sex of the year,’ I reckon that was _at least_ as good as when we fucked on my birthday.”

“Hmmmm, I agree,” Dan says. “But I think this gets bonus points for being in an interesting location.”

“Japan sex wins, then,” Phil says. “It’s official. Best sex of the year award.”

Dan kisses him. “Is there a penis-shaped trophy? Do we have to make an emotional award acceptance speech?”

Phil laughs. “Nah. Too much work. The reward is just knowing we made each other feel good.”

“Mmmm. Works for me.” Dan pulls him closer. “Not to get sappy, but I think that was the perfect way to end our last full day of this holiday.”

Phil sighs. “Don’t remind me.”

“I think that maybe this was the most perfect holiday I’ve ever been on.”

Phil snuggles into him. “I think so too. Maybe even better than our first Japan holiday.”

“It’s like…” Dan says, in that orgasm-drunk tone of voice that Phil knows means that Dan’s about to get super introspective and philosophical. “It was _so perfect_ that I don’t even know if I want to come back to Japan, because what if nothing gets better than this, and the imperfect trip tarnishes the memories of this one?”

Phil raises his head to look at Dan. “Don’t be dramatic. _Of course_ we’re coming back to Japan one day. It’s one of our favourite countries.”

“I know it is. I just—” He sighs. “Do you ever feel like you have this irrational fear that perfect memories will one day get overshadowed by bad things? That everything will turn to shit somehow, and you have to cling onto the ideal of your memories to avoid pain?”

Phil hums. “I dunno. Maybe. Is that like how I get overly nostalgic over my childhood, even though if I thought about certain things hard enough, I would start to realize that some of it was actually kinda sad or messed up by today’s standards?”

“I guess, sorta.” Dan rearranges his limbs, pushes his leg so that it’s sandwiched between Phil’s. “I dunno what I’m saying. It’s probably stupid.”

“It’s not stupid if you’re worried about it,” Phil says. “But, I mean, if we want to be sure these perfect memories don’t get overshadowed, we’ll just have to go to new places on our next trip. We’ll make new memories. Memories that are _completely_ separate from this holiday, so we can’t possibly compare them.”

“That sounds like a perfect plan. Absolutely foolproof.” Dan kisses him. “How are you so smart?”

Phil smiles into his mouth and kisses him back. “It’s why you’re marrying me, isn’t it? For my brains. Also, my devilishly handsome looks. I’ve got the full package.”

Dan laughs. “Sure, bud. That’s _exactly_ why I love you.”

Phil smiles and pulls Dan close again. “You know what? We could come back to Japan for our honeymoon. Since we kinda officially got engaged here and all. It seems fitting.”

“Already thinking about the honeymoon? We haven’t even decided anything about this wedding yet.”

“Obviously,” Phil says. “Because if this trip taught me anything, it’s that we need more holidays to calm our minds down. A honeymoon is the perfect excuse to get away.” He grins cheekily at Dan. “Some would say it’s even _more_ important than the actual wedding.”

Dan laughs and presses a kiss to his cheekbone. “Obviously.”

Phil pulls him close, his eyes closing as he enjoys the warmth of Dan’s body right next to his. And as he falls asleep, his head empty of serious thoughts, his body completely relaxed from two weeks of travel, he thinks that Dan is right.

This holiday really was pretty damn perfect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this (very long) last chapter! Thank you so much for reading and supporting this fic! I loved writing it and researching it. 
> 
> If you enjoyed, feel free to [reblog this fic’s masterpost!](https://possumdnp.tumblr.com/post/641849580357599232/lkotryo4)
> 
> **Links to Relevant Content**  
> [Instagram stories from 21 November](https://youtu.be/XdBTd7woSXY)
> 
> [Kamigata Ukiyoe Museum](https://osaka-info.jp/en/page/kamigata-ukiyoe-museum) (They never mentioned going here, but it looked cool. I mostly just like the idea of them being museum nerds when they’re on holiday.)
> 
> [Instagram stories from 23 November](https://youtu.be/JSRv9FO95fs)
> 
> [The Final Fantasy Eorzea Café menu, complete with pictures and descriptions!](https://finalfantasy.fandom.com/wiki/Eorzea_Cafe)


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